Journal of a Vacuan Vagabond
by resoundingdeluge
Summary: The collected musings and misadventures of a lazy lizard faunus simply trying to find purpose and pleasure out in the sands of Vacuo. Currently on hiatus until Arboretum catches up, in Volume 3.
1. Introductions

Salutations, intrepid reader. I can think of only three scenarios which could possibly have led to you reading so sacred a tome as my personal journal, and I have chosen to list them below from most to least likely.

Scenario 1: I took a job for some teary-eyed, helpless old lady, a cute girl in need, or an entire village that was way above my ability level and you killed me and looted my corpse, only to find this inevitably bent, likely sweat-scented, and incredibly boring journal. Please refrain from using it as kindling. I worked hard on this, you know. Well, assuming that this first entry isn't the final one. I do occasionally have problems following through on tasks that take a lot of mental energy, and writing certainly qualifies. I'm already getting a headache.

Scenario 2: I've decided to show this to friends on the road, or after retirement as an adventurer for hire, for a bit of a laugh. Maybe we're poking fun at my irreverent scribblings together over a roaring campfire, or maybe I've settled down, and we own a home together now. Maybe this is being shown to a potential spouse, should I be so lucky to survive these years of wandering. In either case, it's good to see you again, person I've yet to meet. I hope you enjoy the contents within, and I hope they give you some insight into the man you've come to know, and maybe even love. I can't say that would be too horrible of a fate at all. It would be oddly poetic, in my mind.

Scenario 3: Perhaps you are a lover I've picked up along my travels, in the pursuit of a night of comfort, and you decided to snoop through my belongings as I snore lightly beside you. While some other men would write 'in such a case, wake me, if you're up for round two' within these pages, I have a far simpler demand in exchange for your trespass. Oh kind, cute, curious mystery woman, you may continue to read, if it suits you, but please- allow me to keep sleeping. I rarely manage a good night's sleep, and if this was one of those rare occasions that I mustered the courage and energy to try to charm someone into casual intimacy and somehow succeeded, I'm certainly going to need it. You have my thanks for your consideration, and I have no qualms with being the little spoon, if you want to put the journal down and join me in bed, or within the tent, or wherever I may be. Just make sure to mind the tail- it's quite heavy, and could likely cut off circulation to your extremities if you don't position yourself carefully. Perhaps it's best if you try to slip back into my arms without waking me, and allow me to be the big spoon. It would help boost my ego in the morning, after all.

I won't lie, I spent a good fifteen minutes fantasizing about Scenario 3 just now before I remembered that I had started a journal. In any case, I can think of no better way to start this project than by returning to Scenario 1, as it seems by far the most likely way for someone else to read this. If you did heed my advice to keep this tome, and decided to read it, I would very much like you to know something from the bottom of my heart.

You, sir or madam, are a colossal asshole, and I hope that reading this entry makes you feel awful about your incredibly misguided decision to kill me. We could have been friends, in another life, but no- you just had to choose the path of the raider, thief, enemy faction, or grimm. Can humanoid grimm read? I suppose the answer doesn't matter if I am, in fact, dead. If you're reading this while I'm bleeding out in front of you, though, and you do happen to qualify, shriek menacingly once for yes. Satisfying my curiosity is the least you could do for me, you slimy, partially skeletal, ravenous, potentially furry beast. Regardless, let's continue. I don't think I've done a very convincing job of making you feel bad about your decision yet, and this thing only has so many pages.

My name is Aki Daisuke, though depending on where this is being read, it may be Daisuke Aki. In certain parts of Anima- Higanbana, and the like- names are typically written and spoken with the family name coming first, and the given name second, if you didn't know. My family name is "Aki", while "Daisuke" is my given one. If I am indeed bleeding out in front of you, or perhaps, you've captured me and are reading this to mock me, now is the time to say "Hello, Dai. Nice to meet you." I may respond with a middle finger, in either case. Consider this your warning.

…I suppose there is a fourth possible scenario, after all.

Scenario 4: You have captured me, and are reading this journal to yourself or aloud to try to get a reaction. In such a case, I will not tell you anything, unless, of course, your chosen methods of torture are particularly effective. Everyone has a price and a limit, I would think. Good luck finding mine. I really would appreciate a greeting, though, now that you know my name. I also now realize that what you may be looking for could be within these pages, so you should keep reading as I try to nonchalantly escape whatever binds you have me in at present. Failing that, maybe my awful attempts at humor will sway you to release me. You never know.

I really do get sidetracked easily while writing, it seems. I find that odd, considering I think I focus rather well on other tasks. I'll have to ask a friend if I've been lying to myself about my tendency to let my mind wander, or if writing is just one of those things that can end up being entirely unique. Regardless, back to my dead, dying, or captured pity party. My goal is to make you cry by the end of this entry, if you deserve it.

At the time of writing, or perhaps, rambling, in the year of 3059, I am 19 years of age. I'm actually closer to 20 right now, for what it's worth. I am a faunus, as I believe I made abundantly clear by referencing my incredibly weighty tail. My parents told me that the trait is specifically from a Vacuan Beaded Lizard, which is a particularly nasty variant possessing a tail that makes up nearly 30% of its body weight. That ratio did indeed transfer to me, and saddled me with an appendage thicker than my legs that tends to drag when I walk. Even so, I've grown quite fond of my tail, over the years. It grants me impeccable balance, and it works wonderfully as a backup weapon, given its weight. I'm well aware that some faunus are grateful for traits that they can easily hide so that they might blend in with humans, but I see such a thing as a waste of time. I'd much rather let it all hang out, as it were, and put my animal feature on display for everyone to see, including any nearby humans who happen to be racist.

I like knowing who my enemies are.

I was born in Vacuo, though my mother was from Higanbana. Hence, my name. My father hailed from the shifting sands, like me, and for a time, we all lived out here in the desert, before moving to Higanbana at my mother's request. Apparently, the combination of heat, raiders, and beasts the size of buildings casually strolling the sands and looking for humanoid meals got to be a little much for her. My hometown is a small community known as Harold's Folly. I used to ask both of my parents repeatedly who Harold was, and what his mistake may have been, but never received a straight answer. My father, in particular, seemed to make a hobby of giving me a different story every single time I asked. Eventually, I just gave up. I think that's what he was going for.

I do visit that old town, from time to time, and some of the locals say they remember me. It seems that all they want to talk about is how much I've grown, or where my parents are. Quite frankly, I don't have the heart to tell them what happened, and I certainly don't have any inclination to record it here. Not yet, anyway.

Maybe one day, I will write down, or reveal to those asking, how we went from Vacuo to Higanbana, and why I came back home alone. Until that day, though, I'll continue to tell them that my parents are happily running the candle shop and smithy out in that peaceful, foreign village in Anima. Is it really so wrong to do so if it keeps them happy, and keeps me from having to face the truth like an adult? People from Vacuo rarely leave the place, and I doubt anyone interested is both willing and able to make the journey out of the desert to check.

This is getting unnecessarily deep, though I can't really say I'm surprised with that outcome. I started this journal as an attempt at curing my boredom during long, lonely nights on the road. Or "road" as the case may be, as I'm writing this in Vacuo. "Trail of tilted stone markers sticking out of the sand with bits of fabric wrapped around them" is a far more accurate descriptor than "road" for much of the passages of transport in this forsaken desert. Perhaps, though, as time goes on, this little book can serve as both something to do, and a way to figure out my feelings on the past, present, and future. I will readily admit that I have a habit of getting lost in my own head. Now, I can say I have a habit of getting lost in my own pages, too.

Do you feel bad, yet, if this is Scenario 1 or 4? I really am doing a terrible job, aren't I? I think, from here on out, I'll just write for myself, rather than whoever may get their hands on this journal. Then again, given the inconsistency and thought-vomit that I've managed to produce thus far, who knows what direction these scribblings may take?

I suppose, for posterity, I should mention that I am writing this neither while "on the road" or during a "lonely night", at the moment. The midday sun is currently directly overhead as I'm laying atop a rock, shirtless and sweaty. In fact, the only clothing I have on at the moment is a pair of black pants, and the long, maroon cloth that I like to keep tucked around my waist. My boots, shirt, and mask (all of which are black, of course) lay discarded upon the sand beneath my perch, and my ancestral firearm is right here beside me.

If this is Scenario 3, try not to get hot and bothered while mentally picturing me according to that description. Consider this a gentle reminder that I'm very tired in this theoretical present, and I really do prefer sleep to sex. Perhaps that explains why Scenario 3 is so unlikely, to anyone curious.

Sunbathing, or maybe more appropriately, basking is one of my favorite things to do in the desert. Maybe it's the lizard in me that drives me to occasionally laze about in the intense heat. Maybe that's the real reason I came back to this place. There's nothing quite like the feeling of trailing the tip of your tail lazily through the sand as your flesh bakes and begins to tan. Is a "journal tan" a thing? If this becomes habit, I think I'm going to alternate writing while laying upon my back and my stomach, so that I don't end up with a rectangular patch of milky white skin amongst the darker tone of the rest of my body. Are these normal things to think about?

Regardless of the answer, I can hear a caravan approaching my rock. I consider it convenient timing, as this is as good of a place to end my first entry as any. I don't know if further entries will be a recollection of events that I find interesting as the days go on, just venting and stream of consciousness rambling when I'm bored and feel I need it, some combination thereof, or something else entirely. All I know right now is that I hope that if this is being read, it's in the context of Scenario 2 or 3, and that the approaching caravan is friendly, and maybe even in need of my services. I could certainly use the spare lien.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Welcome to the first of many journal entries of Daisuke, an OC who will be appearing in the story _Arboretum_. While these journal entries are indeed canon to _Arboretum_, they can easily be taken as a standalone story about a teenage faunus just trying to survive and find his way out in the desert. Daisuke is a character who will not be showing up in _Arboretum _until Volume 2 or 3, and his history before he appears is largely irrelevant to the overall plot. That being said, he's one of my favorites, in terms of personality, and I have a strong urge to write for him now instead of waiting. So… here we are.

This story will update every so often and contain a record of events leading up to Dai's involvement in _Arboretum_, and potentially, even his perspective on events within it. I would also like to thank ConstipatedGenius for partially inspiring this idea with _Tale of Team Iridescence_ and _Iridescence_, which is a pair of stories including a journal and a third-person companion story both involving his characters. They're both definitely worth a read if this kind of 'journal' story is something that interests you.

**-RD**


	2. Intrigue

Shockingly enough, the caravan was not only friendly, but downright hospitable. I'm writing this from within a tent amongst their circled armored vans, and this time, I am indeed beneath the stars. I've been given a small cloth tent as lodging, a surprisingly comfortable bedroll, and a job to do. I'm also wearing a shirt once again, so to anyone looking to fuel their fantasies of yours truly- I must apologize.

On the more important subject of that aforementioned job- apparently the caravan is transporting something highly volatile, powerful, or expensive, as it's been beset by thieves twice already and these people are only three days into their journey. Supposedly, they're on their way to drop off supplies to Shade Academy, which is still another three days away. I find it odd that an established institution couldn't provide them with protection if they are indeed delivering supplies, but I'm not about to question easy money. All it took for them to hire me as extra muscle was a demonstration of my semblance, and a good look at my weaponry.

Starting with my weapon, for anyone unfamiliar- it doesn't yet have a name. I don't know that I'll ever give it one, but the temptation is certainly there. I suppose it's technically an heirloom, as it used to be my mother's, though I'm not sure if an item needs to be passed down through multiple genera0itons to qualify for 'heirloom', or just one. Regardless of its technical classification, I've grown incredibly fond of it over the past few years, and I couldn't imagine using another weapon. That isn't just because of the sentimental aspect, mind- it pairs beautifully with my semblance, and its quirks and difficulties are oddly comforting, in a way that I'm not sure I can explain.

The weapon itself is a combination of a traditional Higanbana-style folding fan, and a triple-barreled shotgun. When extended into fan form, the metal span of the weapon is nearly as tall as my waist, and the handle would bring it up to the middle of my stomach, were it to stand upright. Of the five spokes holding the 'fan' itself together, the three that make up the center are gun barrels. When open, the barrels fire in a distinct, almost musical rhythm, with each pull of the trigger- middle, left, right, middle, left, right, and so on. Snapping the fan closed allows for the firing of all three at once, and resets the pattern.

The beat of the gunfire brings about a sense of calm within me, somehow. It reminds me of late nights in either of my home villages, listening to musicians playing as I reclined on the terrace of my former home in Anima, or sat around a campfire out here in the desert. It reminds me of home, and of my mother. She always did love music, and she passed that appreciation on to me.

Moving ever so swiftly along, that brings us to the subject of my semblance. Much like my weapon, my semblance was passed down from family, though in this case, I inherited it from my father. I have mastery over the flow of the wind, from a gentle breeze to a targeted whirlwind, it all just makes sense to me. With the flick of a wrist- or more likely, a fan- I can redirect bullets, push others around, or use it along with my weapon to "surf" along the sand dunes. It's my preferred method of travel, though it does become incredibly draining after several minutes on end. I've been working on it in my travels, and soon enough, I may be able to break 10. It's always good to have a personal goal, however small.

In fact, it's that very trick that earned me this current assignment. The caravan was delighted by my little aerial performance, and that was apparently enough to convince them that I know what I'm doing. The leader of the operation, though- she was far more reserved and professional about the whole matter than the grunts in charge of driving and transport. She asked me several questions about combat experience and my travels. I was more than happy to oblige, though she didn't return the favor beyond a few simple facts.

The leader's name is Cinnamon Shoal, and she, like every other member of the caravan, is a faunus. She's an intense, shrewd woman who appears to be about my age, or slightly younger, with skin like mocha and hair so white that her chin-length dreadlocks almost appear to be made of crystal when they reflect the desert sun. Odd, white and orange spines the length of her muscular legs jut from her triceps, and she dresses to match their coloration. She seems quite content, and quite attractive, in an orange bikini top and white sarong covering a pair of orange short shorts. She's certainly easy on the eyes, though her own hold a kind of fire unlike any I've ever seen. I can tell just by looking at her that she's dangerous, and likely the only reason she signed me on is because she isn't a Vacuan.

If I were a more confident man, I would make a move, once this job is complete. However, I don't have the spine to proposition a woman like her, nor am I stupid enough to think she's the type to be interested in a man like me. From what I can tell, she's all business, and I'd need to be caught in a very rare mood to do anything beyond steal an occasional glance. I get the feeling she's roughed up other would-be pleasure-seekers for less.

Cinnamon's position at the head of the caravan would be surprising, given her age, but with her demeanor, it makes sense to me. I simply hope that my instincts are wrong, because I'm beginning to suspect that these people are White Fang. None of the symbols or procedures typical of the Fang seem to be visible anywhere on or around the procession of vehicles or people within them, but that means little. This could easily be an undercover operation, and if that happens to be the case, there's going to be trouble. I really, really do not want trouble with these people, and especially not with someone as intriguing and intimidating as Cinnamon Shoal.

The White Fang is an uncomfortable subject for all faunus, regardless of whether they are supporters, detractors, or members, and I am no different. The widespread prejudice against faunus is no secret, and neither is the existence of the Fang, or their list of goals. They claim to want equality and to receive what is rightfully "ours" as a species. While I do believe that, at least, to that extent, they are right, I cannot bring myself to align with their methods. I am a pacifist at heart when it comes to humans and faunus, and letting violence against our people breed more violence doesn't sit well with me. That's actually one of the reasons I came back to the desert to begin with.

Things are bad for the faunus in all other continents of Remnant. In fact, calling things "bad" is perhaps the most ridiculous understatement I've ever made in my life. I'll never forget the first time I saw the aftermath of lynching, back in Anima. The girl's eyes were so lifeless and glassy, and her expression was a sickeningly neutral one, in contrast to the bruises and wounds all over her bare skin. Her brown wings were broken and hanging at odd angles, trailing feathers down to the ground every so often. I was too young at the time to understand what I was looking at, why she wouldn't talk to me, or why no one would help her down.

The only thing I don't understand now is how someone could find it within themselves to treat another that way, regardless of their species.

The faunus of Vacuo could be considered lucky in that they don't have to deal with violence against them because of their race. A human or faunus from another continent is in far more danger out in the desert sands than anyone else, and racism seems to have all but vanished out here. Something about the danger and uncertainty of day to day life in the desert seems to have brought people together, at least so far as those issues go. Some other faunus would call me a coward for coming here to avoid having to confront racism head-on. I would say that they're absolutely right.

I feel that, alone, there is little I could do to combat the situation of the faunus without the White Fang, and yet, I have seen firsthand the bitterness and hatred that combatting violence with more violence brings. I would rather focus on what little good I can do for the deserving than try to speak out and be forcefully silenced or ignored. Making change on a global scale isn't for me. I once thought that it was, but I was clearly mistaken. Doing right by people on a small scale, and knowing that I made both human and faunus smile, feel safe, or find resolution with a personal matter is enough to help me sleep at night. Speaking of such a thing, I think it's time to stop writing. There's little chance I'll be getting any rest, and I'm in no mood to transcribe my thoughts anymore after that. I think that this may well be my last entry, and this journal is indeed destined to become kindling after all.

It's hours later, now. Well after midnight, and closer to dawn than dusk. I sat alone in my tent for hours, before deciding to venture outside and simply take in the view of the desert in an attempt to find something to focus on outside of my own head. It seems like the only thing I found was more questions.

Cinnamon Shoal was sat atop one of the cars in the caravan, staring up at the moon as she spoke into her scroll. She was about fifty feet away and had her back to me as I left the tent. I didn't dare to join her or call out, and instead elected to creep a bit closer in the silence of the night air. I'm fairly certain everyone in the camp was asleep, and still is. I managed to make it up to the opposite side of the large vehicle, and began to listen in to the conversation. It wasn't long until I heard two words that I was hoping I wouldn't hear from her, in any context.

"High Leader."

Cinnamon Shoal is indeed a member of the White Fang. My stomach sank and my blood ran cold the moment I heard the words, and my first instinct was to silently make my exit from the camp. However, upon returning to my tent and rethinking things, I find that something is urging me to remain here, and see this through. I know that I can't hold off the entire caravan if it comes down to it, but these people seem oddly reasonable and welcoming, compared to the Fang I've met in the past. Besides, I can't just let them roam the desert unchecked, especially if they're on their way to Shade Academy. I've decided to stay with the group and feign ignorance for now, and I've also decided to keep this journal, which should be obvious at this point, considering I added on to this entry.

Not only is this record now evidence of White Fang activity in Vacuo, but I know that I can't simply keep running from my problems and pushing things that I find difficult to deal with off to the side. As uncomfortable as it is, I think, in time, it might be a good thing for me to start confronting those things that unnerve me. Perhaps paper can be a first step, and practice can be the second. Dealing with racism, the truth of what happened to my parents, sexual relationships, and several other things are subjects that I'd like to simply pretend don't affect me, but I know that such a stance is childish. From here on, I'll try to confront them more openly. It's the only way to grow.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Just as an aside- this version of Cinnamon will be canon to _Arboretum_, but **not** _What You Stole. _If anyone is reading both as well as this, she has a vastly different backstory in the two stories, and I don't want anyone confused over it.

**-RD**


	3. Awkwardness Ensues

After a full day with the caravan, I haven't learned much, but the few things that I did learn, I feel are worth recording. They're worth writing down for many reasons, none of which I'm at all comfortable with. So, without further ado, I guess I'll just get into it, starting with the most important finding.

Cinnamon Shoal loves marshmallows. After winding down and helping the caravan drivers make camp for the evening, I once again sat down within my gifted tent and began thinking about my next move. I decided to go and wander outside of the bounds of the circled vehicles to clear my thoughts and hopefully arrive at some sort of decisive action. Instead, I found Cinnamon, alone and crouched over a small campfire atop a large, flat rock a good distance from the rest of camp. I was a bit surprised to see her out on her own, and more surprised when she invited me to join her in what I can really only describe as a welcoming tone. Well, welcoming for her. It was a bit like being invited to a party you didn't know was going on while being held at gunpoint.

Not wanting to be rude, I obliged, and sat on the opposite side of the fire across from the enigmatic, dark-skinned young woman. For whatever reason, she had a line of three marshmallows on a long stick in her grip, and seemed incredibly focused on roasting them properly. She tossed me the bag full of the treats resting beside her without so much as a word. Finding a suitable stick wasn't particularly difficult, but given that I had never tried cooking marshmallows over a bonfire, or at all, until maybe two hours ago, I'm sure I looked very much the fool as I got to setting up and trying to mimic her.

The pair of us sat in silence for a time. I'm not sure how long, as I felt checking my scroll would ruin the mood, and I don't wear a watch. I honestly don't think anyone does, out here in Vacuo. Regardless, eventually, Cinnamon began to speak. At first, I wasn't sure if she was addressing me directly, or simply filling the silence around us out of uncomfortableness or necessity. Cinnamon told me that she was used to traveling alone, even as a child, and that she used to keep a bag of marshmallows with her for occasions like this to cheer her up as needed. I then made the mistake of asking why she felt the need for such a thing tonight, and received no response bar shaking her head. I feel as though Cinnamon opened a door for me, and I slammed it shut immediately by being an idiot. Perhaps she is indeed as guarded and stiff as she appears when barking orders at her men, or perhaps I simply annoyed her. I think it's a bit of both.

On that note- there is the matter of "her men". I resumed the conversation by offering that I, too, generally traveled alone, and sought out sake for my own little comfort ritual. I didn't dare mention this journal, or the fact that I look for sake because it reminds me of my mother. Cinnamon told me that she understood, and then let on that she had been hired by the caravan, just as she had hired me on to assist her. Allegedly, that means that whatever she's paying me is coming out of her pay from these people, if they really didn't begin this journey together. That also means that if she's being honest with me, the workers and traders within the caravan likely aren't with the Fang. The entire conversation just added another confusing, conflicting layer to my time here. That trend continued as the night wore on.

Cinnamon and I proceeded to make small talk over the fire and marshmallows, and she generously offered me replacements after I completely burned my first set to blackened husks while paying attention to her words, rather than my stick. Around that time, the girl circled around the fire and sat next to me to show me how to evenly cook a marshmallow. I won't lie- only about a third of my attention was on her instructions, while another third was internally panicking over having an absolutely gorgeous and intimidating faunus girl in such close proximity. The final third was dedicated to making sure that the orange and white spines protruding from her upper arms remained a safe distance from my person.

Throughout the trading of nebulous information- Cinnamon is 18, by the way- I came to find out that the spines are lionfish barbs. While I've never seen a lionfish before, which is a fact that I'm incredibly happy with after speaking to Cinnamon and learning about them, she was more than happy to explain that the protrusions contain an incredibly potent venom. While not deadly to faunus or humans, being "stung" results in excruciating pain, and also opens the victim to her semblance- control over the semblance of anyone she happens to be touching, or anyone envenomed by her.

It was at that point in the conversation that two things happened. First, I burned the second stick of marshmallows while trying to process just how dangerous such a semblance could be both to me, and her, and Cinnamon got quite annoyed again. Secondly, I realized that this woman was not one I want to cross, if I can avoid it. Coward that I can sometimes be, the option of merely slipping away in the night after being paid half of my fee tomorrow did seem like the most attractive option, until the conversation reached its next phase. With what I learned as our time together ended, though, I'm not sure that I could walk away if I still wanted to, regardless of the White Fang being involved.

Cinnamon is lonely. That fact became increasingly clear to me as the night wore on, and not just through her words. Subtle things within her actions, and earnest glances toward me betrayed a longing to be understood. Maybe the only reason I picked up on such things is because she looks the way I often feel, or at least, she did when we were alone. Cinnamon has a definite, dangerous edge when around the people we're escorting, but at least for tonight, she seemed pleasant.

I want to believe that her insistent, almost desperate need to keep me at her campfire and continue talking was born partially out of regret for her association with the White Fang, but I know that such a presumption is too much, too soon to be anything approaching realistic. For now, I've decided that I can be content with her merely showing interest in me, and allowing me to take interest in her.

Though I can't put a measurement of time on it, after what felt like hours, our conversation came to a natural, nearly silent end. I did manage to properly cook one stick of marshmallows on my fifth attempt, and Cinnamon stole one of them from me as payment for putting up with my ineptitude. I didn't protest, or particularly mind, but I will admit that she's on to something with those things. They're quite good when properly done, and still entertaining when they turn all black and burst into flame. All in all, it was a successful venture, in terms of food, and a terrifying one in terms of her.

I'm not sure when it happened, or why, but as we sat in silence and I occupied myself with staring into the fire, lost in thought, her head somehow ended up upon my shoulder. By the time I realized that she was in direct contact with me, her eyes were closed. I will admit that I watched her chest rise and fall for a duration, before realizing that staring at her chest did indeed mean I was staring at her chest. Fortunately, she was either too content or unconscious to notice, and I didn't have the heart to wake or alert her, whatever the case would have been. I still don't know if she was actually sleeping, or simply resting against me for a reason I don't fully understand. Eventually, though, she pushed off of my shoulder as if nothing was amiss, and announced that we should head back to camp. So we did.

Cinnamon reminded me that we had at least two more nights on the road before we would reach Shade Academy as we put out the fire and collected her half-depleted bag of treats. It was then, before I could stop myself, that I made the offer to meet her outside of the caravan tomorrow. I made the excuse of needing practice with marshmallows, and she quickly agreed to the proposal. While I'm not dense or desperate enough to think she meant anything literal when she said "it's a date", her words did stir an entire line of uncomfortable thoughts and feelings that I had spent the majority of our conversation trying to keep repressed. Those thoughts surfaced with a vengeance as we made our way back to our charge together, and those thoughts still linger now.

I've always known that if ever I was going to venture into the dating pool in any serious way, I would look for a woman unafraid to tell me what to do. Not only is such a notion quite stimulating, but I'll readily admit that one of my biggest flaws is indecisiveness and a tendency to freeze up and become paralyzed in the face of big decisions. Starting something intimidating is a near impossibility for me without endless procrastination, and funnily enough, starting to pursue any sort of relationship with a woman who meets those qualifications is one of the most intimidating things I can possibly imagine. Such is life.

Cinnamon Shoal is an imposing, fierce, and at times, surprisingly gentle woman who quite clearly knows what she wants. That much, I now know for sure. What her business with the Fang may be, and why she's bothering to help this caravan deliver whatever they're delivering, is another matter entirely. There are still many pieces to this puzzle that I'm only just learning of, and I still have no idea what shape those pieces may be. Letting my mind wander to thoughts of this woman in any way beyond professional partners is only complicating things, but I can't deny that the thoughts keep coming.

I suppose that my thought process was that writing all of these thoughts down, putting them to paper and staring at the words, would allow them to simply exist upon this page. If I made an entry about how her skin seems to almost turn bronze in the desert sun, how her muted, confident smile is enough to send tingles up and down my arms, and how her haughty, almost judgmental accent and inflection keeps me hanging on her every word, I could set all of those things aside the moment I close this journal and return to them when I'm ready to deal with those things. I am well aware that such hopes are absolutely in vain, and that, at least for now, I've developed what some would call a schoolboy crush. Of course, I'm not in school, nor am I a "boy" at this point, but the notion is equally as pathetic and distressing.

I think, at this point, it's fair to say that this journal will remain completely private for as long as I travel with Cinnamon. I'm well aware that I've changed the "rules" regarding this book in every single entry, but as I've already stated, I have no idea what I'm doing anymore. It isn't just this book, either- I have no idea what I want out of life, this journal, or even this job, at the moment. I thought protecting cargo would be simple. I should know by now that nothing involving people ever is.

I've had these sorts of feelings for people that I clearly shouldn't before, and they've generally passed without incident, in a matter of weeks, or sometimes months after I move on from the person. This time, though, something feels different. I suspect that knowing that Cinnamon is a member of the Fang is both causing my mind to run wild with worry, and possibilities. Perhaps it's a hero fantasy of being able to "save" her from remaining involved with a group that the majority feel is only serving to run faunus relations even deeper into the ground. An uncomfortable part of me is beginning to wonder if I want her to try to convince me that the Fang is something else entirely, and that I should rethink my stance on them. Both prospects are equally terrifying, as I have no idea how I would approach either one.

Regardless of the facts and feelings slowly presenting themselves to me, I should turn in for the night. I can only hope that if I somehow manage sleep, my dreams remain clean, comforting, and restful.

They are almost never any of the above.


	4. Heat

Dear Diary,

I will never write those words again. That looks absolutely awful, and I suspect that "Dear Journal" would only be slightly less vomit-inducing. I sat and stared at those two words for what felt like minutes on end just now, after putting them to paper and wondering what the hell I was thinking. Unfortunately, given that this is written in pen, erasing and starting anew isn't an option, and I'm not tearing out a perfectly good page just to get rid of a duo of words. I guess the only option is to continue, and ignore how lame this introduction has now become. I must admit, I'm not nearly as upset about it as I otherwise would be- I'm in a very, very good mood.

Night has fallen again, one day since my last entry. Today was a whirlwind not just because of my liberal semblance usage, but because of the events that transpired during our journey and the early evening just before now. In the interest of chronicling everything important that has occurred, I'll do my best to thoroughly cover the events of the day, instead of skipping to what happened mere hours ago. The last thing I want this journal to become is a list of wistful, hopelessly pathetic thoughts about Cin. That being said, I have a feeling that such a thing is inevitable.

There's also the matter that she asked me to call her Cin, whenever we're in private, but that's a whole other matter that I'll get to later in this entry. For now, I need to focus on the events of the actual day itself. I need to focus better, in general. Something odd has come over me lately, and I'd rather not think about the possibilities of what it could be. Moving swiftly onward.

To start at the beginning, the caravan was finally beset by thieves today, for the first time since I signed on. According to Cin, the numbers with which they attacked far exceeded the other attempts, though their garb and strategies were different from those of the previous bandits. Neither of us recognized their dress or symbols, and there are no dead or scraps of clothing from which to closely study either one. That almost wasn't the case, but I managed to prevent any usage of lethal force. Barely.

Cin is absolutely terrifying in combat. While I thought that she was an imposing woman just by talking to her, watching her fight is something else entirely. She moves with a purposeful ferocity that makes it seem like each and every one of her opponents has somehow personally offended her just by being within her line of sight. I watched in awe as she employed her semblance against two attackers at once, and triggered a powerful water jet to knock one raider far away into a sand dune while the other was bound in thorned vines of some exotic plant.

The foe in foliage wound up kneeling before her, and within a second, she had the blades formed by the limbs of her arm-mounted crossbow leveled at his throat. She tried to threaten the man for information, and he spat at her through the tendrils squeezing around his face. Despite his incredibly stupid act of defiance, I could see from where I was holding off another bandit that the man had an uneasy, possibly drug-addled fear within his eyes. I engaged my semblance without a second thought, and used a gust of wind to blow Cin's aim slightly off course as she thrust her arm forward to drive her blades into the man's throat. The razor-sharp limbs instead dug deep into his shoulder, and she kicked him to the sand as he writhed in pain. Once the would-be thief was incapacitated, Cin turned to look at me with an entirely unreadable expression. A part of me was afraid that she would lunge for me, next. Instead, she simply offered a nod of understanding, and turned to fight off the next opponent nearest to her.

No more attempts at taking lives were made for the duration of the fight, and I was silently thankful that the bloodshed was kept to a minimum. I don't want deaths on my conscience, and especially not the deaths of men who belong to a faction or party that I don't even know. Cin fought with far more intent to maim and inflict pain than I did, but honestly, I cannot blame her there. Instating a silent "no killing" rule was already a compromise on her part, and this merry band of partygoers, whoever they may serve, were indeed trying to steal that cargo she and I had been charged to protect. Whatever we're delivering, it's definitely important, valuable, and likely not a secret. Not when a band of this number made such a grandiose attempt. We're only one day out from the city of Shade, such that it is, and its central academy. We can do this. I have no doubt that between Cin and I, we have this covered. I do, however, have doubts about our future beyond the delivery.

It wasn't long before the attempted robbery was called off, and the bandits retreated into the dunes. No one made an effort to give chase, and to be honest, I was quite exhausted after such a sudden, intense fight. I didn't see the punch on my arm coming when Cin threw it, and the sheer impact of the good-natured blow took me by surprise. Her punch is strong- likely stronger than mine- and it was accompanied by a full smile I would say was even stronger. It was the first time I had ever seen her smile with teeth involved, and I pray to every deity, existent or not, that it isn't the last. She said something to me, but I was too distracted by her smile to really register what she was telling me. I fumbled over my words and managed a nervous "you too". She laughed in response. I laughed along with her, wondering just how badly I had managed to botch whatever conversation she had tried to start.

The White Fang must have an incredible dental plan.

I most definitely do have an infatuation with Cin, and it's growing stronger with every interaction. This woman is so far out of my league that we're likely not even playing the same sport. I feel as though I've completely lost control of my thoughts and feelings, and I'm strangely okay with that notion. I trust her to lead me, for now, regardless of her affiliation with the Fang. She led me out to make another campfire around three hours ago.

For about an hour and a half, we sat and made small talk. Afterward, there was some stargazing, and trading of stories about constellations. She was incredibly knowledgeable about the stars. I tried to make up my own, and was promptly informed that that is not at all how constellations work. Regardless, she seemed amused, and put up with my stupidity. I didn't tell her that most of the stars just ended up reminding me of the devious, wicked, and intoxicating twinkle that so often graced her eyes. That's the kind of thing that has gotten me slapped in the past, and likely for good reason. I tend to become a poet when it's needed least, and I usually can't stop myself from saying my thoughts aloud. I'm glad that I somehow managed, this time.

I suppose it's a good sign that she at least pushed me her scroll information, unprompted. I happily accepted, and returned the favor. I wanted to ask about her plans after the delivery tomorrow, but I had absolutely no justification that wouldn't likely sound creepy. I've decided to simply take things as they come, and jump off that bridge when we come to it. I truly hope that she plans to remain in Shade for a few days, and that we can maybe talk in private. I need to know if the spark that I feel is one-sided or imagined. I need to know why she's with the White Fang. I need to know what she's doing next, regardless of all of those answers. I know that it likely sounds like an excuse when I say I wanted to monitor Fang activity, and she's the easiest way to do so. It absolutely is, at this point.

The ink stains on the opposite page of this one resulted from slamming this journal closed as quickly as I could, and I profusely apologize to whomever may read this in the future. Cin walked into my tent, lacking her sarong just as I was finishing the last sentence of the above paragraph. She's aware of the existence of this journal, and that fact fills me with a dread that I can't quite explain. I can't tell if she's the type to go looking for it, or to try to lift it from me while I'm sleeping or otherwise occupied. I can, however, tell that she likely wouldn't be pleased with the amount of words I've devoted to describing her beauty and impact on my current mental state. I waited until morning to write this, as I kept the book as close to my chest throughout the night as I kept her.

She said it was cold. I said she wasn't wrong, and asked why she had removed her largest article of clothing. She said that it didn't really help against the chilling winds that lowered the temperature of the air. I hesitated, and then said that she was welcome to stay. She said nothing and lowered herself onto the bedroll beside me. I stopped breathing, and eventually pressed my bare chest to her nearly equally bare back. Her body heat was far warmer than the sleeping bag flap I threw over us, and she didn't complain about the hard, rectangular journal pressed against her side. Fortunately, she didn't complain about any of the hard things pressed against her side, or even acknowledge their existence. I think she was doing me a silent favor. She absolutely knew.

We talked again, briefly. She told me that some of the things we're transporting are indeed going to Shade Academy, while others are going to various locations throughout the city. Those other items will be processed and distributed by the people in charge of the vehicles, though Cin wants to deliver some of it personally. I didn't ask what, where, or why, but I offered my services to assist her. She accepted. Cin also told me that she has a friend at the Academy, and is planning to check in with him. She invited me to join her on that visit as well, and I accepted. I have no idea what I'm in for, but I have a feeling it's going to be interesting, tense, and potentially lead to an even greater loss of control.

In short, I'm looking forward to it.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

This will almost certainly update again next week, with a somewhat longer entry than normal. Expect some surprises and new characters to get introduced. Not all of them will be OCs…

**-RD**


	5. An Unbreakable Bond

As fate would have it, Cin has a home in the city of Shade. While she may not be from Vacuo, and she may still be a member of the Fang, it turns out that she's been living here for the past several months with her little brother. There's also the matter of said little brother, but I'm getting ahead of myself- the two most important things to begin explaining the events of today are that the city of Shade is an absolutely beautiful mess, and Cin has invited me to stay at her home for the next several days. Both of those facts surprised me quite a bit, but looking back, I don't think either one should have done so.

Beginning with Shade, I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn't this. The entire "city", such that it is, is in the formation of loose, concentric rings around the steppe pyramid of Shade Academy. The innermost ring is a seemingly endless loop of market stalls, taverns, brothels, and the occasional small business that make up the bazaar. Most of the stalls are simple wooden frames with worn, hole-ridden, brightly-colored fabric draped lazily over the upper part to serve as shade for the vendors who hawk goods at anyone who cares to listen. Occasionally, there is a more sophisticated giant tent that serves as a shop between stalls, and it is within those that more expensive goods can typically be found.

The air within the market hangs heavily around the area with the scent of exotic spices, smoked meat, heady perfumes, and unwashed people. It's a jarring, somehow pleasant mixture that showcases the unique blend of classes and peoples that make up all of Vacuo. It feels as though the bazaar itself has always been here, and some errant wind merely uncovered it from beneath the desert sands. The entire ring fits so perfectly against the backdrop of the Academy and the surrounding desert that it gives off a strange welcoming vibe. I have a feeling I'll be spending much of the next few days there, haggling for goods and information so that I can determine my next move. There's also the possibility that the people here might know more about Cin, and her apparent family.

The next, larger ring around the bazaar is made up of houses and hostels. More large tents, much like the ones housing the more expensive goods in the market, dot the perimeter of the "housing" ring, while mud-brick adobes make up the majority of the available lodging. Cin's house is one of those, and one of very few that sports an upper floor. I am currently writing from a deck chair upon the rather large balcony, late into the night. Torches in brackets on the outside walls of several homes allow me to see quite a bit of the other houses around us, and countless other lights from within the bazaar make it seem like the sun never sets inside of the city itself. Endless music and bustle emanates from the inner ring even now, and if we were unfortunate enough to have only a tent, I honestly have no idea how I would be able to sleep. I imagine that this is what being trapped inside a beehive must feel like.

I will admit, this situation of busy nightlife isn't all bad, and despite the constant noise, it's somehow comforting. I can't remember the last time I had the opportunity to lay up in an actual house, and this is quite a nice one, by Vacuan standards. While the inside of the home is only sparsely decorated with furniture, Cin has taken the time to display a few pieces of artwork like masks, sculptures, and paintings. Nothing seems to be of great value, and it would seem that most, if not all of it, was made by her or her brother. There is little of value here for would-be thieves to pilfer while she is away, but the place is cozy, all the same. Her habit of burning incense around the house helps with that, and I can still smell the fragrant smoke all the way out here. The invisible tendrils of odor seem to almost be pulling me back inside, but I won't head back in to join my host until I recount the other events of today. After all, without that, it would be impossible to explain the teenage male faunus currently snoring lightly upon the chair next to mine.

When Cin said she wanted to deliver some packages from the caravan to a building right up against the edge of the outer ring of Shade, I was somewhat surprised. The outer ring is made up almost entirely of guard posts and barracks for the men patrolling the perimeter of the city, and the notion of the Fang being associated with the guards was a potentially worrying one. Oddly and fortunately enough, there is one building that doesn't fit that description, and it is one of very few structures in Shade made out of wood. The two of us drove a small truck between the outermost and housing rings and straight up to the porch of the odd looking building, with two tightly-bound, cube-shaped packages the size of hay bales in the bed of the vehicle.

Several children waited for us just outside of the dark green structure, and one child who seemed to be in the middle of his teenage years led the pack straight to us as we stepped out of the vehicle. I was somewhat surprised to see the outlier head straight for Cin, and I was more surprised when the two shared a quick kiss and embrace. When Cin introduced the boy who looks absolutely nothing like her as her brother, I believe my mind completely shut down, and when she explained that the building we were delivering to was an orphanage, I gave up entirely on trying to piece together what was happening. I think doing so actually made understanding the situation easier.

Almost immediately after embracing his sister, the younger boy offered me his hand, and a wide, innocent grin. For whatever reason, he treated me almost as though I was a friend that he hadn't seen in ages, and he later told me that any friend of Cin's was someone worth treating like a hero. I think that alone says more about the boy I came to know as Sun Wukong than anything else, really. He adores his big sister, and their small and subtle interactions made it quite clear to me that she feels the same way toward him. While they may not be blood related, they have a bond that I'll readily admit I am envious of. It was certainly a nice thing to see, and his presence brought about more genuine smiles from Cin, so I really can't complain. All in all, I like the boy, and the constant positive energy he seems to radiate from every pore is a nice contrast to his sister.

In addition to his relationship with my companion, Sun is impressive in his own right. I would guess that he is 14, maybe 15 or 16 at absolute most, and if he wasn't so pure and innocent of an individual, I would also guess that he heavily abuses illegal steroids. The boy's arms are thicker than my neck, and his abs, which he keeps on constant display through a perpetually unbuttoned dress shirt, look more like an arrangement of smoothed stones than muscles that an actual person his age could develop. He easily puts my physique to shame, and I am not at all somewhat secretly bitter about that fact. Sun also has golden blonde hair befitting of his namesake and baby blue eyes, along with a monkey tail that seems to almost have a mind of its own. The extra limb curls and twists behind him when he's excited, or thinking. It's quite honestly adorable, and adds to his boyish charm.

Sun is an overall pleasant, helpful individual, and he wasted no time assisting us in carrying the large parcels into the orphanage. Despite the sand and wind-worn exterior of the building, the inside is surprisingly well maintained. Sun eventually explained to me, merely an hour or so ago, that he grew up within the orphanage, and it was the only home he ever knew until he met Cin, only a year before the present. As no one saw fit to adopt him, Sun eventually became a fixture of the place, and grew into a position of taking care of the other, younger children. The older couple who still runs the orphanage have come to rely upon him to do repairs, sort out conflicts, and just generally keep the place running. I didn't have the heart to suggest that they're using him, but I don't know if Sun even sees it that way. He calls it volunteer work, because of course he does. I have a bad feeling that one day, his kind and outgoing nature is going to lead him down a road of disappointment and heartbreak. I hope that I am wrong, but I seldom am when it comes to pessimistic thoughts.

The three of us spent quite a bit of time at the orphanage, and I get the feeling it was far longer than Cin intended to stay. After we dropped off the goods to a waiting supply room in the basement, Sun prepared tea for the three of us and insisted that we stay and catch up on things. I know when I'm a third wheel, so I decided rather quickly that I was going to stay relatively quiet throughout the exchange. At first, I got away with it, too, as the unrelated siblings were content to discuss what had gone on in Shade during Cin's absence. Apparently, it had been a month since she had been back to Shade, and Sun was left alone to watch the house when not volunteering his time at the orphanage. While the notion was sweet, I was blindsided by two things in rapid succession.

First and foremost, Sun asked if I knew the details of Cin's work. I said that I was largely unaware, but assumed that she was more or less wandering muscle looking for a job, like me. I was quickly corrected by the boy, and informed that Cin is supposedly a mail carrier for items of value all throughout Vacuo. According to Sun, his sister's job is escort and protection, and it always has been, ever since she was old enough to strike out on her own. A whole field of red flags surfaced in my mind as I listened to his examples of a few of her past adventures. The final nail in the coffin housing my optimism was when he told me that Cin supposedly grew up in a small, nomadic village out in the desert, and that the traveling lifestyle gave her the idea for such a unique career.

Last night, Cin told me that she was born in Atlas. I can think of only two possibilities, and neither one is good. The first possibility is that she's been lying to me, this is all a huge misunderstanding, and I may have jumped to conclusions far too quickly about her involvement with the White Fang. The other possibility is that she's been lying to Sun, he has no idea that she's with the Fang, despite their supposed closeness and recent development into a patchwork "family", and Cin has no problems with the inconsistencies beginning to surface because she either hasn't realized her missteps with me, or she's toying with me, and knows that I know the truth. No matter which of the two possibilities it is, something isn't right, and I'm determined to get to the bottom of it. All I can be sure of right now is that I need to be careful, and that Sun needs to be kept out of the confrontation between Cin and I at all costs, until I know exactly what's going on.

The second surprise came while I was still trying to process and recover from the first. Cin finally joined the conversation, only to point out that she still didn't know much about me, but she was interested in keeping me around for the foreseeable future. Sun backed her up on that notion for reasons that I didn't quite understand at the time, and insisted that I begin to share a bit about myself. Caught between two other faunus, a throng of children parading about the building, and a chipped teacup, I didn't really have a choice but begin to explain why and how I do what I do, and a little bit of where I came from. The pair across the table from me listened intently as I told them a slightly edited version of the truth about my upbringing in Harold's Folly, Higanbana, and my return to Vacuo afterward. I'm not sure how much I can trust either of them anymore, and I'm also not sure I would tell anyone the entire truth, just yet. Not even myself, within these pages.

The rest of the conversation at the orphanage was relatively uneventful, and consisted largely of small talk. Once the sky turned from a vibrant, almost eye-searing blue to a dark blanket of navy, Cin stood and informed us that she needed to stop by the Academy before the end of the day to speak to her friend. I offered to remain behind with Sun and help him with whatever needed doing around the orphanage before heading back to Cin's place with him, and fortunately, she accepted the offer. My intent was to subtly collect more information about her from what seems to be a reliable source, but the outcome was something very different. I suppose I may never learn.

Halfway through drying whatever dishes Sun handed me, the boy asked if we could privately discuss his sister. Given that such a thing was perfectly aligned with my goals, I eagerly, and too quickly, agreed to do so. It was then that Sun told me that he had literally never seen Cin so comfortable around someone she had worked with, and that I should keep "doing whatever it is I'm doing to get her to look at me the way she does". Naturally, when I asked him how she looks at me, he couldn't formulate an answer, because that would be informative and helpful in my decision making process, and the entire world insists on making me feel as uncomfortable as possible at all times. Half of me wanted to thank him for the flattery, and the other half of me wanted to spike the plate in my hands directly into his stupid, innocent, well-meaning, handsome face.

I cannot help but wonder if Sun has ever seen Cin with another member of the Fang, unknowingly. It seems likely that he has, and if what he said is true, that fact isn't encouraging. I may not know how I feel about her overall, but I do know that in a general sense, she deserves to smile more. I've decided that at least for as long as we're at her house here in Shade, I'm going to make an attempt to make that happen, without considering the potential costs. When it comes to the next "job" she has in mind, I'll reevaluate my stance. For now, I'm going to locate and drape a blanket over Cin's exhausted little brother, and then join her within her bed. I need to get some sleep before I meet this "Shiv Lazuli" person tomorrow, so that I can hope to impress him with my stunning wit, charming smile, and total bewilderment as to what the hell is going on in my life anymore. If nothing else, at least I have a willing companion to keep warm throughout the night.

And spines to avoid.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

With that, Sun's _Arboretum_ arc has officially begun. It's going to be quite a journey. Potentially to the West.

Nailed it.

Also, this update went up early because reasons. _Reasons_.

**-RD**


	6. Haze

I make it a personal policy to try my hardest not to judge other people, given how much of an absolute mess I am in almost every aspect of my own life. That being said, from the second I laid eyes on Shiv, I felt nothing but contempt for the man. Everything about his appearance rubbed me the wrong way at first sight, and it honestly still does, even though the day ended better than it began. Be that as it may, my new associate looks every bit the part of "pretentious douche" to the point where I suspect he must be doing it intentionally. I understand that some of it isn't exactly his fault, but his every facial expression, physical feature, article of clothing, and even his faunus trait blend together into a perfect, bitter cocktail of smugness, superiority, and irritation.

To begin, Shiv Lazuli is a mink faunus, which is an animal trait I personally have never seen. I get the feeling that sentiment holds true for most people, and I'm also quite sure that Shiv likes it that way. Perhaps even more odd is the fact that his specific trait is that of mink fur, which gives him the natural look of always having an expensive accessory literally growing from his body. A tight line of fine, white fur forms a ring around his neck and travels downward to end in two matching, tapered lines just below his collarbone. From the sides of his neck, the fur continues outward along his shoulders and ends in similar lines down his arms, which end just above the elbows. As for his back, the fur wraps down around the shoulder, and travels all the way down his back in a thinning triangle, to end just above his waistline.

The entire display is topped off by a thin line of fur traveling from beneath his navel down into his pants. I don't even want to know what's going on anywhere lower, and I count my lucky stars that he at least has the decency to wear full-length, black pants. Naturally, he doesn't seem to like wearing a shirt, likely because he wouldn't be able to show off his apparent "treasure trail" with one on. To be fair, living in the Vacuan desert with natural patches of fur, no matter how light and thin, must be difficult and uncomfortable. I suppose I really can't blame him too much for forgoing such a critical garment, but between Shiv and Sun, I'm getting a little tired of every other man in my life putting me to shame with their physique. I wouldn't say I'm fat by any means, but I also wouldn't say that I'm as sculpted as Sun, or as lithe and sleek as Shiv.

To accentuate whatever look Shiv thinks he's going for, he wears baby blue fingerless gloves to match the streaks in his chin-length, otherwise snow-white hair. He also sports a bandolier of dust cartridges slung diagonally across his chest, and wears a black and silver half-mask. The odd, spiky shape rests around his left eye, and helps to draw out its vivid golden color. All in all, he looks to be from an entirely different social class than most of the other students at Shade, who wear functional loose robes, wraps, or nearly nothing at all. Shiv is very easy to find in a crowd, and his slim, almost worryingly thin build only makes it easier. Much to my frustration, Cin seems to absolutely adore everything about him, his look included.

As she introduced me to her long-time friend, I couldn't help but notice that she ran a hand along the line of fur coating his shoulder, and then followed the hairs down to his elbow before squeezing his arm. Normally, I would think nothing of it, but Cin has been on my mind far more than I would like lately, and she repeated similar gestures throughout our stay within the man's dorm. On the subject of the dorm, the room, which I was told will soon become an additional base of operations for our "team" outside of Cin's home, is set up like a studio apartment meant for a single person. At first, I was confused as to how Shiv managed to get a room all to himself, and I made the mistake of asking him. One condescending chuckle that made me want to throttle him later, and I received a full, and admittedly interesting lesson on how Shade Academy is different from other schools for hunters.

I had never really paid attention to any Academies at all, because I knew that I could never afford to go to one, and especially not after the incident that brought me back to the desert. That being said, I was under the impression that all Academies formed students into teams of four, and those teams largely lived and fought together throughout their time at the schools. Apparently, Shade Academy is the exception- according to Shiv, students stand on their own, and are given individual dorms. Hunters in training are encouraged to form and break "teams" as they see fit, and that includes inviting outsiders to join them on hunts and jobs posted around Shade proper. Shiv has run several jobs together with Cin, and our transport assignment was one that he gave to her while he was busy with other things.

I still do not know what Cin brought to Shiv, and I have a bad feeling that I'm not going to find out for a while. I feel as though Cin isn't going to tell me, and in order to get the information from Shiv, I would need to get closer to him. At first, I wanted nothing less in the world. As time wore on throughout the day, though, the flow of events took an abrupt turn for the better, and I began to get over Shiv's appearance. Now, at the end of the night, as I'm out on the porch and writing this entry through a slight, lingering haze, I think I might even be able to call Shiv a friend.

It all started when he suggested that we return to Cin's place together, to discuss potential next steps. I agreed to the idea, and he offered to meet us there within the following hour, and bring along some food or drink. I jokingly suggested that he bring sake, as I felt that I could use a drink, however impossible to find and illegal the entire notion would have been. He simply nodded, and said he would get it done. I had no idea how to respond to that, and Cin simply suggested we make our way back to her home. She called Sun on the walk back, and she and I went to the market ring to pick up a few food items that the boy asked for in order to cook for all of us. I offered to pay for the lot, and Cin was all too happy to accept the notion. I want to say I don't know why I did it, but I know exactly why. At this point, I think the whole world does.

While we browsed the bazaar for the listed items, I decided to make small talk with Cin. We spoke largely about the Academy and its policies, before the conversation slowly wound back to Shiv, which was exactly where I didn't want it to go. Cin asked what I thought of him, and I said that he seemed nice enough, helpful, and intriguing.

I left out the fact that I think he looks and speaks like a self-important, narcissistic ass, and his obvious Atlesian accent causes a vein in my forehead to throb. Come to think of it- Cin does also have a slight Atlesian accent, but it seems to come and go, and on a woman, it's quite attractive.

Regardless, Cin seemed pleased with my answer, and I was pleased with her smile. It seems to be coming around more and more often lately, and the high I get from it still hasn't faded at all. What did fade was my own smile, when I asked her how she and Shiv met, and she told me that they grew up a block away from each other in Lower Atlas.

I never expected to make a serious, life-changing decision while in the middle of haggling with a strange and unfamiliar man for a tomato. I knew then and there, while we were away from Sun and any members of the caravan, that it may be my only chance to call her out on her past. I brought up the fact that Sun said she had supposedly grown up as a nomad in Vacuo, and eventually become a package runner. It was then that Cin's smile turned to something far more serious and grave. She told me that I, of all people, should know that sometimes, telling those closest to you the entire truth just isn't an option, even if they deserve it.

I was too scared to ask what she meant, and I'm still terrified by the notion that she might know something about me. I don't know if she's always known something about me, if she somehow got hold of this journal while I was otherwise occupied or asleep, or if she was merely toying with me, but I don't like any of those options. There is, of course, one other possibility- perhaps she was simply talking about the way I'm beginning to feel about her, and the fact that I'm far too much of an absolute coward to say anything about it.

Cinnamon Shoal isn't just keeping her cards close to her chest anymore- I get the feeling she and I are playing two entirely different games. I'm playing Hearts, and she's playing… I don't know many card games, and none of the ones coming to mind accurately describe the way I feel about how she's approaching "us". Poker could have sexual connotations, and there's no way either of us is playing that, so just pretend that I managed to finish this poetic metaphor with something fitting, instead of dropping the ball yet again. I would appreciate it.

The walk back to Cin's home was excruciatingly awkward, and equally silent. Cin seemed quite fine, but I felt like I was dying inside. There was so much that I wanted to say, but I couldn't manage to get any of the words out of my throat. Eventually, we reached the adobe once again, and made our way inside to find Sun in the kitchen cooking up a storm. The boy has some serious culinary skills, and he had no problem holding a conversation with the two of us while attending to several pieces of cookware at the same time. Friendly reminder- it took me more than two attempts to decently roast a marshmallow. Hanging around with all of these incredibly attractive people is beginning to make me feel inadequate in ways that I've only dabbled in, previously.

I'm going to find myself a box of donuts and fuzzy slippers tomorrow, and spend the day lazing about in self-pity. Or at least, that's what I want to do. I somehow doubt it's actually an option.

Shiv arrived within the hour, and brought with him several bottles, including one of sake. I will admit, if I was at all attracted to men, I think I might have kissed him then and there, despite all of my hang-ups. Predictably, he simply gave a cool "I have my ways" when I asked him how he found such an exotic drink all the way out here in the sands. I was too relieved and excited to see the bottle to let his cocky smirk get to me, and so, I simply left it alone and helped set the table.

Sun finished his cooking in rather short order, and before long, the four of us were sat around a table in the downstairs dining room, lost in natural, casual conversation as the drinks flowed and spiced meats, bread dishes, and vegetables were passed around liberally. If I am honest, I cannot believe how easily and freely the night progressed, and I can barely remember most of what was said. Part of that is because I was too busy simply enjoying the company of what I suppose is now my "team".

The other part of that is the fact that I am still fairly tipsy. I'm used to drinking alone, stopping early, and using alcohol as an aid for wallowing in despair. As it turns out, drinking with friends is far more fun, even if Sun refused to join in. Given his age, I can't really fault him for it, but I doubt that most middling teens would have repeatedly turned the three of us down as the night went on. His loss, I suppose. Drinking with Cin and Shiv led to more than a few laughs, and it also led to a rather soft, tingly kiss on the cheek as we all got up from the table, before she told me she was off to draw a bath.

I really could have done without Shiv suggesting that I go and join her after Cin made it out of earshot, partially because I was just drunk enough at the time to consider it, and partially because Sun turned a shade of red that I didn't know flesh could reach. Regardless, I'm getting ahead of myself, out of excitement- there was one other thing that happened at dinner that's worth noting, potentially even more so than the softness of Cin's lips.

Midway, or somewhere thereabouts through the meal, Shiv began to tell us about a few high-paying, four-man jobs that had recently become available to students of Shade Academy and wandering mercenaries alike. Apparently such postings are difficult to secure, as there is typically a race of students trying to form parties of four capable of working together to go after the rewards, and that results in a mad dash to be the first to sign up. Shiv offered Cin his scroll from across the table, and she zeroed in on a posting almost immediately. Somehow, in what I honestly don't believe is simply coincidence, she found us a job post from Harold's Folly, and hovered her finger over the screen while giving me a pointed look. She asked if I was "in". I agreed that I would be, and so, her finger descended, and I became a member of what we've decided to call Team SAWS. Shiv appointed himself as the first "S", because of course he did.

While I am hesitantly excited to go home and deal with the sand worm that is apparently getting too close to the settlement for comfort, I'm also nervous about the implications. I need to confront Cin, and I need to do it soon, and privately. Shiv doesn't need to be involved in what's quickly becoming a very personal game of chess, and Sun absolutely cannot know of any of this. He's just an innocent kid, and one that I very much don't want to upset. The fact that he's taking time off from his "job" at the orphanage just to help us out speaks volumes about him, and I really don't want this to get ugly for him. I'd also like to get to know him, and yes, even Shiv, better. Causing an explosion with Cin would make that rather difficult, in addition to wrecking me internally.

Apparently, we're using one of the vehicles from the previous transport caravan to get to our destination. I still don't know if those are Fang vehicles, but I'm going to find out as soon as possible. I'm going to get the truth from her, about everything, tomorrow night. I'll wait until we stop and make camp, and invite her out to make a campfire somewhere outside of eavesdropping distance. If the truth isn't to my liking, then I'll make a decision about what to do. For now, though, I'm going to go and wait for her in bed.

Maybe I can at least get another kiss before everything goes sideways. Maybe even a real one.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Time for things to heat up, in more ways than one. Planning for another update next Thursday, since things are getting too serious to let this go and update something else.

**-RD**


	7. Confrontation

Yesterday was the most fulfilling and frustrating day I've experienced in recent, or honestly, any level of memory. I feel as though I've had my heart wrenched and twisted into some sort of unfamiliar shape, while white-painted, manicured nails poked and prodded at the chambers and valves. I can't remember the last time I've actually cried, but I feel dangerously close to doing so just from an overload of stress and tension. Normally, I would record in detail everything that happened during day one of our ride toward Harold's Folly, but I'm not in the right headspace to pretend that any of it matters right now. All that's worth writing down, and all that I think I can write down, is about the events that occurred last night with Cinnamon Shoal.

It all began exactly as I had planned it. After spending the majority of the day speaking to the three other occupants of our transport RV, I took some time alone in the early evening to work up the resolve to confront Cin. It wasn't easy, and I almost backed out several times over, but in the end, I invited her outside to go and talk. She agreed, and actually looked quite happy to come with me. In any other situation, her immediate smile would have been comforting. In that one, it was just another gut punch to my resolve. I knew I was going to upset her, and I knew that the night might end with my departure. Regardless, I pressed on.

Finding a large, flat rock far enough away from the caravan to talk privately was easier than I had expected. We got to work making a fire in silence, and it was quite simple to get it lit. Afterward, I spread out a blanket and sat by our light source. Cin joined me immediately, and chose to lay with her head in my lap. The gesture was an unexpected, yet definitely welcome one. Of course, it did make it harder to start the conversation I had been dreading, but I knew that I couldn't let things go on any longer without some answers. It was at that moment, looking down into her fierce, orange eyes, that I decided to just lead with the matter at hand. I told her that I knew she was in the White Fang.

She simply said "Okay", and kept her expression and tone just as casual and composed as it had been up to that moment.

I had no idea what to say or do. I had gone over every scenario I could think of throughout the day in response to my accusation, but that one had eluded my imagination. I'm fairly certain that my mouth was agape as I tried to fish for anything else to say, but I lost the race to the next words. Cin told me that she thought I might know, based on the apparent change in my facial expressions and body language alone after she had gotten a call from her leader that night. She explained to me that part of her work was being an expert in reading people, and she noticed a definite change. Cin also said that so long as I kept the information from Sun, she was comfortable with me knowing the truth, and that Shiv, too, was a member of the organization.

Again, I was at a total loss. I still don't understand how she could be so casual about such a huge revelation. The White Fang is an extremist group known for violence, theft, sabotage, and destruction on a scale unlike any other organization in history. While I understand the sentiment behind it all, I just cannot fathom how someone could commit themselves to a cause with such a dark legacy and still be proud of it. With some of the things I've seen and done in the past, I don't understand how anyone can openly support the White Fang and still rationalize that they're doing the right thing. All of that is what I wish I could have said to her, then and there, but the thoughts just wouldn't manifest as words. Instead, all I managed to stammer out was the question of whether or not she had read this very journal.

Cin looked confused, and understandably so, by my total non sequitur. She sat up from her position half-draped over my leg, and braced an arm behind herself as she looked at me with what I can only describe as skepticism and concern. While she claimed to know of the existence of the book, on account of feeling it pressed against her bare back when we first shared a bedroll, Cin swore that she would never encroach upon my privacy. I was told that she cared far too much about me to do something like that, and she had no "business" reason to do it for the Fang.

Everything about her gentle, reassuring explanation, from her tone of voice to her features, made me want to believe her. It all seemed so convincing, and yet, I could feel cold beads of sweat on my forehead and neck from the pressure of the situation. I asked her how she knew I was from Harold's Folly. She told me that she had no idea, and chose a job at random from the available list. I asked her what she meant by saying that I "of all people" should know that telling those you care about the entire truth is sometimes impossible. She told me that using those same skills by which she had figured out that I knew about her involvement with the Fang, she knew that my feelings for her went far beyond being professional partners.

Yet again, I froze. If what she told me is true, it had all been coincidence and inference on her part. It also meant that I was the asshole in the situation, and it wouldn't be the first time. Such a notion isn't that farfetched, and just because Cin is a member of the White Fang, that doesn't preclude her from making friends or being honest with those she cares about on a personal level. It also doesn't mean that she's incapable of falling in love.

I don't know if Cin is a good person. I don't know if I can learn to simply accept that our views on what is and is not worth doing for faunus equality are wildly different. I don't know if she's been feeling all of the same things that I've been feeling as we've gotten to know each other over the past week. All I know for sure about the conversation we had is that when she leaned in to caress my cheek, told me that I need to learn to voice my thoughts more often, and pressed her lips to mine, I returned the kiss immediately.

Of all of the things that I've learned about myself on this personal journey across the Vacuan desert, I think the most surprising and useful thing is that I'm terrible at preparing for anything at all. For as many hours as I had agonized over how to approach Cin about her involvement in the Fang, none of it did any good. For the entire night I laid awake, staring at the ceiling and trying to figure out how to make a good first impression with Shiv, he had turned out to be something completely unique and outside of those I would normally consider a friend. Then, none of the fantasies I'd indulged in had readied me at all for the soft, gentle, and heavenly sensation of Cin's lips against my own.

It was more than a physical touch- there was something deeply emotional, and dare I say spiritual about the experience. To say my expectations were exceeded would imply that I ever thought I would be in such a position at all, and that's a total lie. I had assumed that our "relationship", such that it is, would eventually crumble or violently explode in some sort of physical fight over her position as a member of the Fang. The reality of the situation is so far removed that it seems dreamlike in its simplicity and sensations, and I could not possibly ask for more. The quick, intense lip lock broke after what felt like an eternity, and after mere seconds of staring at each other, I was shoved to the ground and felt Cin's nails up under my shirt and against my bare chest.

Naturally, the very moment I was faced with a situation that nearly every other man in Vacuo and likely over half of the women would literally kill to be in, I found my voice once again. I blurted out that I had serious hang ups about any sort of physical or emotional romance, and I tended only to engage in a rare hook up while completely wasted. The sudden, inappropriate knowledge caused Cin to pause for all of a second, before offering me a wry smile and asking why that was as she raked her nails down my abs. I explained that I had been through several rough breakups, and that I once was told that I am absolutely horrible at sex, which has turned me off of the idea entirely and made me feel grossly inadequate. As I laid there with her straddling my waist, expecting condescending laughter, I instead received only a slight frown, and a dark finger upon my lips. Cin told me that she could teach me if and when we got that far, and that it sounded like the one who made such a statement was just trying to hurt me. She also told me that despite her flirtatious nature, she, too, had misgivings about sex, and that such a thing wasn't at all her intention then and there.

With no reasonable defense against her logic, I said the only other thing I could think of to stop her from whatever she was planning to do to me. I said outright that I couldn't allow whatever our relationship had become to move any further while she was still a member of the White Fang, and that I had principles which I was unwilling to compromise. Cin merely sighed in disappointment, and leaned over closer to my face. Our noses almost touched as she asked whether or not I would be interested in her beyond the bounds of friendship, if the White Fang wasn't a factor.

I was truthful about the matter, and she informed me that she felt the same way. She told me that she was lonely, often misunderstood, and didn't feel safe letting most people see anything beyond the frigid, businesslike mask that she projected while on the job. I told her that I was lonely, too, but that we shouldn't move forward. She asked if I would be willing to give her the opportunity to prove that the White Fang isn't all terrible, and that she isn't the type to take things to the absolute extreme that some others do. Immediately after that first question, Cin asked if I trusted her.

The speed with which I said "With my life" actually took me by surprise. With only a short lapse in words, I also told her that I would give her the chance she asked for. I don't know what drove me to do it, but the sensation of our lips being together again seemed somehow more powerful than it had already been the first time. Somewhere in the exchange, she managed to get my shirt up over my head, and cast it off the rock and into the sand below us. Despite the coldness of the surface of the blanket, the combination of her weight atop me and the sheer emotional connection between us kept me filled with warmth for what must have been the hour or more in which we simply…

"Connected" with each other? Obviously, I don't mean sex, but it wasn't just a long series of kisses, either. It was, but it wasn't. There was some sort of unspoken understanding. A loneliness with endless hunger and a passionate attempt to quell it from both sides. I could feel the desperation and need in her actions throughout the duration of our time together, and some of the looks she gave me said more than any of her words since we had met. After what felt like both an eternity and mere seconds, we ended up wrapped in the blanket with her back pressed to my chest as we simply watched the fire in silence.

I obviously don't remember when we fell asleep, but we stayed out there, and awoke to smoldering embers in a ring of rocks, the sun rising over the far-off dunes, and Shiv's voice as he stood over our makeshift sleeping bag. He scolded us for not returning to the RV, and tossed my sand-covered shirt atop my head as I groggily tried to process what was going on. Shiv warned that while Sun was still asleep, it likely wouldn't be long before he woke up and came looking for us, and that seeing us "entwined", as he called it, might not be good for the boy. Cin told him to calm down, and was the first to leave the confines of the blanket after turning to give me another kiss. Shiv looked away in annoyance, and made his way back toward the RV as we indulged in one more round of passion. Soon after, Cin was gone.

That was half an hour ago. I'm still in front of the remains of the campfire, scribbling away feverishly before the sweet memories of the sensations of last night leave me, and while I can still put my thoughts into words. I don't know how I'm going to handle any of this, or what it all means. I don't know what to do with all of these complex emotions, or how to accept Cin's affiliation alongside her affection. For that matter, I don't know if I can accept it at all, or if we're destined to divide over time because of it. I don't know why I accepted her so readily when I've been burned repeatedly and pushed others away in the past, what makes her different, or why I trust her. I just know that I need this, right now.

I need her, and I think she really does need me, too.

I don't know what the hell I'm doing.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Shockingly, things didn't go nearly as badly as it likely seemed they would. What a twist! This may update again Thursday. We'll see what happens later in the week.

**-RD**


	8. Show and Tell

I honestly don't know if it's "healthy" or even smart to write in this thing multiple times per day, on occasion, but I do know that ever since I began writing in a journal, I've felt differently. I thought maybe that rereading my own words from time to time would make me better at making and committing to decisions, or help me make sense of the path that I'm choosing to walk. Somehow, though, it's having the opposite effect- sometimes, when I reread previous entries, I feel as though they were written by someone else. In a way, I suppose they were. Dai from two weeks ago was alone, heading out into the sands with a vague idea of what towns were in sight. Dai of today has a team, a girlfriend, and a definite destination with a task to complete upon arrival.

I like the Dai of today, even if he seems unsure of his footing. I think the big difference since I began writing is that before, I was confused about what to do next, while now, I'm confused about how to handle what I know is coming. Harold's Folly, the job, the White Fang, and even simple things like getting to know Sun and Shiv are all puzzles to be solved. Maybe I can find the solutions within these pages, in time. I did find one clue already, after all, when I reread a few entries before beginning to pen this one.

Shiv's demeanor has gotten significantly frostier in the period of merely a single day. At first I thought it was my imagination, but upon reading back and trying to put some pieces together, I think I may know what's going on. Of course, I also thought I knew what was going on with Cin and her sudden knowledge of me, and I was wrong, so I'm treating this notion with skepticism. I believe Shiv may actually be jealous, and if I'm right, I need to find a way to fix it, and quickly.

Ever since Shiv found Cin and I outside of the RV earlier this morning, his eyes have been just a bit narrower. His words spoken with a bit more bite. Something about his posture has stiffened, and his nose has become even more upturned than it has been since we met. It likely doesn't help that Cin insists on occasionally showing her affection for me regardless of who may be watching, but that raises another interesting point. Shiv was indeed concerned about Sun seeing his sister getting close to me, but, oddly enough, Sun seems to be what I can only describe as delighted by our sudden, whirlwind romance.

Sun certainly lives up to his name, and all day long, he seemed to shine brighter. He might just be happier now that he's with us, instead of tending to a legion of screaming, greedy, obnoxious, teary, spiteful halflings that most people call "children", but it's hard to say. Nothing has been explicitly said about the change in the way that Cin has been acting, and I'm honestly thankful for it. If her little brother started asking questions, or pointing things out, I would be far more uncomfortable and embarrassed than I already am when she runs her nails from my shoulders down to my stomach from behind while I'm sitting down and trying to hold a conversation.

I will say, though, that I hope she never stops doing it. Her nails are divine.

Regardless, tensions in the RV are at an all-time high thanks to Shiv's foul mood, though that honestly isn't saying much, considering we've only been on the "road", as it were, for a day. He seems to be the only one unhappy, or at least perturbed, but to his credit, he's been participating in conversations with us. Given that another member of the caravan, and presumably, the White Fang, is driving us around, the four of us have spent most of the day simply speaking and eating together. For the most part, it's been nice, and a welcome change to the somewhat frantic pace of the past week.

Fortunately, the topics on the table have been relatively light material, and served the purpose of letting me get to know the other two men of SAWS. Or, one man and a boy, I guess, though I think Sun is mature enough to be labeled "man" in his own way. I think he's actually more mature than me, emotionally, but that's worthy of a separate entry. Maybe the next one, if tomorrow is mostly uneventful.

Regardless, I'm getting sidetracked, as I so often do- I've noticed, in rereading my writing, that I sometimes go off on entire separate thoughts, right in the middle of trying to tell a story, or compose a thought about a particular subject. It just occurred to me that I got sidetracked by mentioning my tendency to get sidetracked.

No one should ever read this journal. It is objectively awful.

The original thought and circumstance that I wanted to detail was that the conversations throughout the day eventually looped back around to weaponry. For the first and only time all day, I saw Shiv's eyes regain the mirthful, devious glint that they had held all of yesterday. Our resident mink faunus was all too happy to share with the class, and I must say- I was rather impressed, if overwhelmed.

I'm not sure what, exactly, I expected, but Shiv's weaponry does make perfect sense for his build and personality. I'm not entirely sure what to call it, actually, but Shiv is primarily a sniper at heart, with quite possibly the most expensive-looking firearm I've ever seen. The entire length of his "rifle", we'll call it, is made of a gold-colored metal, because of course it is. Cyan engravings and accents are all over the barrel and stock, and the weapon features several modular parts. I will admit, I didn't understand all of what he explained to us, rather excitedly, I might add, and I didn't catch what he had named the firearm, though I know he did do so. I zoned out somewhere around when he mentioned usage of a specific chemical that began with a "P" that I had never heard of. I am truly happy that he seemed to be in a bit of a better mood both during, and after his sharing of his weapon, though, and I do mean that. I want us all to get along. I want this to work.

Sun was next in line, and he showed off quite possibly the most dangerous and nonsensical weapon I've ever personally encountered. His 'gunchuks', as he calls them, seem like the sort of thing more likely to put their wielder in the hospital than an enemy. After a quick demonstration of the nunchaku and staff capabilities of his weaponry outside of the van, though, I trust that he can handle them. Sun is a whirling dervish of flailing shotguns, and I honestly have no idea how he could have trained and learned to use his weaponry without shooting himself at least once. I did manage to catch that he calls them Ruyi Bang and Jingu Bang, at the very least. Probably because he kept his demonstration and explanation simple, and didn't start talking about chemistry, wind speed, ballistic flight, interchangeable scopes, muzzle brakes, and whatever other fancy terminology Shiv lorded over the rest of us.

For an hour and twenty-three minutes. Yes, I kept track.

Shiv didn't give anyone else a chance to talk for the duration, except for when Sun would excitedly ask questions, and I would die just a little more inside in response. I'm not sure if the boy was feigning interest, or genuinely understood what Shiv was talking about, but I both love and hate his enthusiasm. Sun is a treasure, despite how long he drew out Shiv's ego-stroking. For a while there, he was a treasure I wanted to bury, but a treasure all the same.

I was next in line for show and tell, and my demonstration and explanation went about how I expected it to. Sun was curious, asked far too many questions for comfort, and wanted to borrow and try out my still nameless fan-shotgun. To my surprise, Shiv also asked a few questions, though they were all things that I had no idea how to answer. Even if he was simply trying to make me look incompetent in front of Cin, I will give him some credit- after handing over my weapon to him, he was able to answer the questions himself, and offered some pointers on modifying the weapon. He certainly seems to know what he's talking about, even though I don't know if I could bring myself to actually make any alterations. It feels wrong, somehow, to tamper with an heirloom.

Obviously, Cin was the last to share her weaponry, and I will admit that I paid distinctly more attention to her than the others. I'm allowed to be biased, and I'll freely own up to that. Though I had seen the arm-mounted crossbow in action, I didn't fully understand the way in which the bladed arms flipped forward to become a sort of bracer with twin daggers mounted upon the front until I saw it up close. Though the way that Cin spoke about how she had cobbled together the weapon from spare parts was interesting and provided some insight into her mechanical know-how that I wasn't aware of, that isn't what interested me the most.

The most interesting and significant thing about Cin's weapon to me is that she hasn't named hers, either. For the first time in our little share-out, I asked a question, and it was as simple as "why not"? Cin didn't have an answer for everyone present, though something about her expression told me that she might have one for herself.

Maybe one for me, if and when we are next alone.

Maybe I shouldn't push it. Maybe I should keep my curiosity to myself, given her immediate shift in mood. Maybe pushing it is exactly what she wants. Maybe I'm terrible at reading women.

Actually, I don't think that last one is a "maybe", given my romantic history. That's another thing that will become a future entry, and I think it may come soon. I need to keep writing things down to try to straighten out my thoughts, or make them conveniently presentable to someone else in the future. That notion also makes me wonder whether or not I have any right to record whatever personal details Cin might share with me in the coming days, weeks, and hopefully months and years. I'm going to need to reevaluate who I allow to see this, when that time comes. Maybe, eventually, I'll settle on a definite answer.

I think that about does it, for this entry. I'm not sure what else to say. It's odd, recording my thoughts when I'm mostly content. I may still be confused and a bit anxious about things, but overall, I think I'm just… happy, right now, in a general sense. Having Cin to lean on is something wonderful and unexpected, and having Sun here to silently cheer us on is much the same. I even like having Shiv around, despite having somewhat of a rocky day with him. Of course, knowing how things tend to go, I expect some crisis will arise tomorrow. For now, though, I'm more than happy to leave that thought for another day, and turn in for the night. Until next time, I have some white dreadlocks to stroke and awkward, likely terrible sweet nothings to whisper into Cin's ear while being glared at from across the RV by a mink faunus.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

A simple chapter, but a needed one. Next week's Thursday update may be something different, like a _What You Stole 2_ chapter. Not sure just yet.

**-RD**


	9. Meditation & Memory

A long, long time ago, when I was just a little boy, my mother tried to teach me how to meditate. At the time, I didn't fully understand the point, and I remember sitting next to her, bored out of my mind, and occasionally sneaking glances only to find that her eyes remained closed no matter how many "subtle" noises I made to try to break her from her trance and stop the entire process. Eventually, I would relent, close my eyes, too, and wait out the sheer tedium of our silent periods sat side by side. I never once took it seriously, and I never even really tried, until after the incident back home. I remembered our sessions sometime not long after my arrival in Vacuo, and I did actually try to put effort into meditation. It didn't go well, and I found myself fidgeting, worrying, and obsessing over what else I could be doing with my time, every single time.

It wasn't until today, one day after my previous entry, that I finally understood the purpose of meditation and how to pull it off. Uncharacteristically, I woke up long before my companions, and something spurred me to climb onto the roof of the RV and wait for the sunrise. At the time, I fully intended to watch the sky turn from its deep purple to a canvas of light pastel colors, and finally, a soft, comforting blue. Instead, I ended up crossing my legs into a classical meditation stance, closing my eyes, and losing myself entirely. I don't know how much time passed while I just sat there breathing, but I do know that by the time I opened my eyes again, the sky was light blue, and so was some of the hair visible in my peripheral vision.

Somewhere in the time that I was occupied with meditation, Shiv had decided to join me upon the roof of the RV. He, too, was sitting quietly, though he wasn't meditating. He asked how long I had been practicing the art after I opened my eyes, and I decided to be honest with him. Somehow, I think he knew the answer, though I don't know how or why. Shiv told me that meditation always struck him as a waste of time, and that he could never get it to work for him. Every attempt ended in frustration and thoughts about what else he could be doing. Knowing that I wasn't the only one who had thought such things was an oddly comforting notion, and combined with the sudden clearheaded sensation from my first successful meditation, I decided that there was no better time to confront Shiv openly and honestly than that moment.

I told him that I wanted to get to know him better, and that I was completely unaware of his relationship with Cin prior to their reunion. I also decided to take a risk, and pre-emptively apologize for any feelings of his toward her that I may have stepped on unknowingly by moving my relationship with Cin forward. Shiv was completely taken aback by my words, and honestly, I can't blame him for that. I have no idea where I found the courage or initiative to be so bold and direct, but I'm glad that I was. Shiv wasn't happy at all, but he did begin to explain to me that while he did indeed have feelings for her for years, and they had eventually culminated in a brief and rocky romantic relationship, they were better off as friends and business associates. I don't know if I entirely believe him. The way that he didn't look at me while explaining it gave him away.

The look on Shiv's face as he told me not to worry about it and drop the subject was certainly a familiar one. There's a sort of pain that only comes with being spurned by a woman, and it's one that I know well. Shiv told me that he had sworn off any sort of dating or meaningful romances entirely after he was burned by Cin. He also stood to leave, but I insisted that he stay, and trade some thoughts with me to try to feel better. For a tense, uncertain moment, I felt like he was going to leave the roof of the vehicle, before he finally sat back down and told me that he was listening. I told him that I, too, had been burned badly by a woman that I cared deeply for, and I think that the best and easiest way to recount the tale is to tell it here more or less as I told it to him. I admitted far more to Shiv about my past than I thought I was ready to reveal, but given how things are now, I think it was for the best.

Back when I lived with my parents in Mistral, I met my first and only other love. Sienna Khan was her name, and she was a tiger faunus with a set of brilliant, velvety, absolutely beautiful black and orange cat ears. She had dark skin and fierce amber eyes, befitting of her generally serious and intense nature. When we met, we were just barely coming into our teenage years, and by the time we parted, we were both 17, with me being older by a few months. The split wasn't exactly what I'd call amicable- in fact, it was downright nasty, and based on something that I had hoped would remain under wraps for as long as possible. In order for the tale of my time with Sienna to make sense, it's necessary for a few secrets to come out. I hope that however I'm judged after giving these details, everything else I've recorded in this journal is taken into account… whatever that may mean.

I left out this particular detail in my retelling of my relationship with Sienna to Shiv, but back in Mistral, for a period of about a year and a half, I was a member of a small faunus crime syndicate. Perhaps "syndicate" is a bit much, but we were an organized group of highwaymen who targeted humans. When she and I were both 16, Sienna met a group of other faunus from Higanbana who were fed up with the Mistrali government's treatment of our people, and willing to do something about it beyond simply making noise. At that point in time, she and I were just beginning a romantic, exploratory relationship. We were both head over heels for each other, and neither of us had any idea what we were doing. She apparently ran with the gang for a few weeks before bringing me in on the knowledge of her activities and making me an offer- we could take things further in our relationship if I, too, would join in on the "fun" of raiding human caravans on the roads, burning supply depots, mugging patrolling guards, and stealing from human-run establishments. Sienna told me that she wanted to take some risks in her life and "walk on the knife's edge", as she put it.

Naturally, being a repressed, horny, misguided faunus in his teens who had had more than enough of dealing with racism from humans, I eventually agreed to the arrangement after a not insignificant amount of begging and prodding from Sienna. My resistance to her newfound life of crime really wasn't what it should have been, and I will admit that she had me under her spell for entirely too long. It was only after losing my parents, near the end of age 17, that I felt like intentionally making the lives of others who had nothing to do with what happened worse wasn't doing me any good, and I left the troupe of bandits behind. Sienna didn't understand the sense of loss, futility, and regret that I held, and no matter how I tried to explain to her that my heart just wasn't in it anymore, she couldn't accept my admittedly sudden turn. She called me weak, pathetic, and several other things, and for the most part, she was right. She also broke off our relationship, and told me that I wasn't a real man due to my unwillingness to keep up the fight for something that mattered so much. It hurt more than I care to admit, but I also can't help but feel that it was somewhat deserved. Sienna was right about me not quite being a man, though her reasoning was a bit off.

I do still care for her, despite how she stomped on my heart when I needed her most. We were just kids, then, and she was my first love, my first physically intimate experience, and the first girl I ever confided secrets and emotions to. If we were ever to cross paths again, I think I would forgive her, and try to reconcile things. That being said, thinking about her still hurts, and I definitely don't think that another attempt at a relationship could ever manifest. That much, I did tell Shiv, and he filled me in that Cin had broken things off between the two of them over a different argument, but an argument all the same. He and I grew closer over the shared experience, and he left the roof of the RV while giving me his blessing to continue dating Cin. All in all, I would call that a victory.

Somehow, it wasn't until I was done talking to Shiv that it hit me just how similar my situation with Cin right now is to my previous relationship with Sienna. The Pewter Road Bandits weren't quite the White Fang, but they could easily be considered a similar group, in some ways. I know that the comparison must be obvious to anyone reading this, but sometimes, being too close to a problem makes it difficult to even see that it exists.

Actually, I'd like to rephrase that- I don't think my current situation is a "problem" so much as it is a test. A test for myself, to measure how much I've grown as a person, and a test for Cin, to see just what kind of person she is, and how compatible we really are. Dai of today isn't the same as Dai of Higanbana- or at least, I hope not. I'm trying to take a more careful, measured approach, and I'm currently on the outside of the White Fang looking in, with no plans to even dip my toe in that particular body of water. If anything, I want to help Cin climb out of it. In my heart, I know she can. I don't claim to be a master of romance or connoisseur of hearts, but I do know that there's nothing fake about the way that she acts around me, especially when we're alone.

I'm writing this entry from atop the RV again, after we parked for the night. Cin is in the shower within the vehicle, and Shiv and Sun went out to do a quick sweep of the area, so I'm largely alone. I sat here silently, staring down at the pages and fresh ink for a long time before deciding to continue this entry. I never thought I would admit to this, let alone put it in writing, but I've hired prostitutes throughout my year and a half or so in Vacuo. A total of three. I regret each one of those encounters, for various reasons.

I want to be clear- I have nothing against the profession, or the women who practice it. Well, most of the women who practice it- the one who stole all of the lien from my wallet after our night together, I definitely do have issues with. Be that as it may, my sex drive is naturally almost nonexistent, as I've said before, but occasionally, needs are needs, sake is sake, and drinking alone exacerbates feelings of loneliness and need to levels I can no longer resist.

The first time, I was sober, and entirely in my right mind when the woman approached me. The thought of hiring a sex worker wasn't one that had ever crossed my mind, but she was lucky enough to choose an incredibly low moment for me. It was mere months into my tenure within the desert, and Sienna was still constantly on my mind. In fact, less Sienna herself, and more the way she made me feel when we were together, happy, and she had my heart in her hands. I was desperate to get that feeling back, and I should have known better than to think I could find it by spending a wild night with some woman I didn't even know. Needless to say, the night ended badly, despite the fact that it was fun, for a little while, and she certainly seemed to enjoy herself for the duration. I ended up paying extra, apologizing profusely, and letting her have the rented hotel room to herself, while I went off to go sulk and have a sobbing breakdown. It sticks in my mind as me at my most pathetic, and I don't see that fact changing anytime soon.

The second woman was one that I approached instead, around six months later. I had liquid courage on my side and acting as my wingman, and he let me down by allowing her to steal the contents of my wallet after we were done. Despite the fact that I did stay the night, at the very least, she didn't, and I woke up hung over and hating myself. I vowed that I was done with frivolous sex and the feeling of emptiness that always came afterward, but sure enough, three months later, that vow meant nothing. I was sober again, though the weight of my desperation and feelings of being pathetic shone through like a beacon to the woman. It was after that encounter that I was told I was horrible at sex, a disappointment, and the worst she had ever had. That one did hurt a bit, but I've been told worse things by more important people, I suppose. It just wasn't what I needed to hear at the time, so it stuck with me, and still does. That last-ditch attempt to seek comfort and acceptance backfired about as badly as it possibly could have, and I've spent the time since celibate, lonely, and brooding.

All of this is to say, I know what false intimacy looks like, and how it feels. I know what it feels like to have someone attend to your physical needs only because they want something, and I know how a supposedly "seductive" smile is different from a caring one with actual desire behind it. I've seen Sienna smile down from atop me while my hands were on her hips and breasts, and I've seen Cin smile when I tell her that with her, I feel like I'm finally finding purpose again. Neither of those two smile like a prostitute, and neither one of them has ever made me feel empty. I want to do this correctly with Cin, and find a middle ground. Sienna merely pulled me onto hers, while Cin is offering compromise. It's a difference that I greatly appreciate, and one that I'm going to capitalize on.

So, I want to end this entry by saying that I've finally figured out what I want this journal to be. If all goes according to plan, then one day, I'll be giving this book to you, Cinnamon Shoal. It's going to be a log of my private thoughts, important experiences throughout our journey together, and hopefully, an explanation for how I got from stupid mistake to stupid mistake as you shook your head and laughed while staying by my side. I want this book to be an attempt to detail why I am the way I am, and hopefully, it will say some things that I can't bring myself to admit out loud. Maybe by writing them here, I'll find the courage to admit them to you, face to face. Either way, from here on out, that is my intent. I'm all-in on making this work, and figuring out just how to move forward in life, by looking backward. Here's to a better future, and one in which I can force myself to transcribe the rest of what exactly happened before I came back to Vacuo.

For now, though, I'm going to head back inside, and get some rest. I think I'll try to meditate again, tomorrow morning, and once I feel like I've fully gotten the process down, I'll invite you along with me.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Dai's age in Chapter 1, and the year itself that he's writing this journal, has been retroactively adjusted due to the fact that I'm an idiot who can't do basic math. It's going to matter a lot once this story begins to tie into _Arboretum _in Volume 2, so to quickly recap, at this point in the journal:

-Dai is 19, and will soon be 20

-Cin is 18

-Sun is 16

-Shiv is a bit of a dick

-The year is 3059. _Arboretum_ began in 3040, and Team RWBY's first year at Beacon will be 3061.

**-RD**


	10. The Beast

I think it's time that someone finally put this into writing, as at least so far as I have personally seen, it's never been recorded- meeting new people is exhausting for introverts. I was just starting to get used to having Shiv and Sun around when Cin pulled me aside after we made camp last night to tell me that she had another member of the Fang set to meet us in Harold's Folly. I didn't object, as Cin said that the girl was reliable and incredibly skilled for her age, but I did feel a bit frustrated at the fact that I would soon be around a third member of the White Fang. Fortunately, everything worked out, and our new party of five gets along far better than I'd anticipated. For the record, this is being written from atop the guard tower on the cliff overlooking Harold's Folly, in hours of the morning so early that it's still considered night. I volunteered to take the last shift simply so I could record my thoughts, and to allow Cin to get some uninterrupted sleep. She really needs it, and I know she'll appreciate the gesture, even if she would never ask for it outright.

The rest of the ride here was largely uneventful, though I did get a chance to simply laze about with Cin in bed for quite a while, while Sun and Shiv were out on patrol. I decided to see how long it would take for her to mention the White Fang if I didn't bring it up, and to my surprise, it never came up at all. She seemed far more interested in making small talk and cuddling than dealing with anything serious, and I had no objections to the idea. She also licked the tip of my nose, which was… let's call it "new". New is a very safe word. Eventually, though, she did raise a few points about how we should approach the sand worm.

Given her semblance of triggering another's semblance through direct contact or venom, her ability to inflict meaningful damage is going to be limited to precise crossbow shots. Shiv is primarily a long-range sniper, and Sun and our new squad member Blake are apparently capable fighters, but specialize in creating distractions, and they're both quite young and inexperienced in actual combat. It wasn't long before I volunteered to take point and lead the operation, in a move that surprised both Cin and myself. Naturally, I'm not about to back down when there's a girl I like to be impressed, and I'm also legitimately our best option to lead the charge, such that it is. That being said, I absolutely regret volunteering, and I'm likely going to look incredibly stupid in front of two children, my girlfriend, and her ex. What could possibly go wrong?

On the subject of Blake- she was indeed ready and waiting for us outside of my hometown. Cin warned me ahead of time that the girl's last name was Belladonna, and that she is daughter to the High Leader of the White Fang, which essentially makes her faunus royalty. Despite that, she gave her last name as "Moonglove" when she introduced herself in order to throw Sun off the trail. I'm not entirely sure where the alias came from, but in some weird way, it suits her. Blake looks to be about Sun's age, and has a gorgeous set of black feline ears. I quite honestly thought his tail was going to twist itself into knots as he shook her hand during introductions. It's not every day that I get to see the development of an immediate crush, but I will admit- they would look cute together.

Unfortunately for him, I fear that looking cute would likely be the only thing the pair would have going for them. Blake is Sun's polar opposite- calm, reserved, quiet, and intense. Despite the fact that she stands only to the center of my chest, even I was a bit intimidated by her piercing yellow eyes and stoic attitude. Her style of dress is admittedly a bit odd, in that she looks to be wearing almost some sort of maid's outfit with coattails, but I hardly have any room to judge. She told us very little beyond a general overview of what she had heard in town about the sand worm, and that fact remained true for the majority of the remainder of the day. Apparently, Blake had been in the area by coincidence alone, and beat us to Harold's Folly by nearly half of a day. In her time here, she found out that the worm seems to be consistently approaching from the west and roaming the sands just outside of town in what appears to be a desperate hunt for food. According to the locals, it's drawing closer each day, and if its behavior continues, it will be at the gates within the next three.

After introductions, Shiv apparently decided that being amicable and cooperative for two straight days was far too long, and decided to show his ass by insisting that I escort our party around the town, while informing Blake that it was my home. Blake immediately agreed, Sun agreed with Blake, because of course he did, and Cin joined in on the fun, most likely just to watch me squirm. Left with little choice, I gave in, and began giving the grand tour of my former little community.

Unsurprisingly, not much has changed in my time away from Harold's Folly for the past however long. Even less surprising, nearly nothing had changed since my departure from the place for Higanbana, so long ago. The town is small, consisting of a little over two hundred people, which is typical for a desert settlement. The population is skewed more toward faunus, though there are some humans about working as vendors, mercenaries for hire, innkeepers, and the like. The entire place is surrounded by a sandstone wall about twice my height, with guard towers along it. The wall forms a wide semicircle, and the "open" portion is built into a cliff standing about a hundred feet above the sands, with a large, multi-story watchtower atop it. It is from that watchtower that I am currently writing, and in which our group has been offered lodging by the leader of the settlement.

Within the town itself, there is a typical bazaar, as well as businesses that one could reasonably expect in a small settlement. The aforementioned inns, bars, and hotels, two competing smithies, a brothel that I may or may not be somewhat familiar with, and several locations in which to eat dot the town. I skipped the brothel on my tour, and I was expecting and hoping to skip my former family home. I don't think I even need to say who asked me where it was in town, and I reluctantly showed it off at their request. My former home is a medium-sized, two-story adobe, and it is currently occupied by a family I do not recognize. Seeing the place again brought about uncomfortable feelings, but Cin was quick to reassure me and take my hand. The action also made Shiv look a little miffed, so there's that.

Our group of five eventually met with the village leader and procured the watchtower for the night. The man recognized me, and invited our group into his home for free food, which is always a plus. He gave us a bit more information, though it wasn't anything that Blake hadn't already detailed or implied with her report. Not long after, it was time to schedule shifts for the night watch and begin settling in for tomorrow's hunt. Cin volunteered to take first watch, which worked out well, since we had a period of several hours in which to share a bed between her duty and mine.

Before I turned in, though, Sun asked to speak to me privately, and I went off with him to scout the dunes near to the tower. I was honestly expecting him to have picked up on the White Fang involvement in our group and with his sister, but what he wanted to talk about instead made me want to faceplant into the sand and sleep there until morning. He asked whether or not it would seem creepy if he offered to cover Blake's watch for her, since he thinks she's "incredibly cute", to use his words. When I told him that he needed rest as well, he informed me that his original idea was to keep her company during her watch, as a way to keep her from getting bored and show a little interest. He then told me that he came to me for advice because I seem to know what I'm doing with relationships and approaching women, given that I'm dating his sister.

Laughing in his face probably wasn't the best idea, but it's not like I could have stopped myself.

After carefully explaining to Sun that I had somehow luckily bumbled into Cin's arms, I did try to offer some advice to help the boy. I really do need to keep in mind that he is just a "boy", and that having a crush on a girl his age like Blake is certainly natural. Of course, he doesn't know that she's in the White Fang, and what getting involved with her would likely do to him. I was, and honestly, still am torn about how much I should try to keep the two separate, but seeing the well-meaning, good-natured attentiveness that he gave to my words swayed me toward being legitimately helpful. I more or less told him to calm down and fight well if he wanted to impress her, and then see about getting her number when we parted ways. Sun seemed happy enough with the advice and thanked me, which is great, since I had no idea what else to say beyond that. Honestly, I'm not sure if "opposites attract" would apply with these two, but for his sake, I hope it does… and I also hope it doesn't. I worry for that boy, and I worry even more now that he's apparently starting to look up to me, of all people.

Regardless, I slept well, and only rose for my shift a little over two hours ago. When I reached the top of the tower, I found Blake sitting silently atop the parapet, waiting to be relieved. I told her that she was free to go, and that I wouldn't try to hold her back to make small talk, since I could tell from her body language through the day that she, too, wasn't one for crowds. She was appreciative, but asked if she could stay with me at the top of the tower, as she knew she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep anyway, and wanted to get some reading done under the stars. I saw no problem with the offer, and so, she's… a few feet to my left right now, with her back up against one of the raised sections of the turret. The temptation to say something is indeed rather strong, but at the same time, it's incredibly nice to just be able to sit, write, occasionally look out over the landscape, and know that I'm not stuck up here alone. She hasn't said anything about my journal, but she's definitely seen it, by now. I appreciate her silence on the matter, and I can't help but wonder if she has one of her own.

I've never heard of the book that Blake is reading, but it's entitled _Forbidden Love_, and has a rather muscular male bird faunus cradling a human woman in his arms. Neither of them is wearing clothing, but their explicit bits are strategically covered by folded limbs, feathered wings, and falling leaves. I'm not entirely sure if a book like that is appropriate for someone her age, but I'm also not her father, and I think I understand the thought process behind reading it. Life and love are both messy affairs, while in books, everything usually just seems to work out. Maybe she's reading it as a form of escape, or because she desperately wants such a romance. Maybe, if she sticks with us, I'll talk to her about it when she's less preoccupied. I like to read as well, and I get the feeling I'm alone in that notion amongst our group. For now, though, I think it's best if I just focus on keeping watch and mentally preparing for the coming fight. It's been a while since I've had to put some serious effort into a battle, and the stakes are higher than ever.

Two of us have girls to impress.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Blake is also 16, at the moment. Shiv is still asshole years old.

**-RD**


	11. Flight of the Worm

The following is a list of things I could and should have said to impress Cin after the two of us played an integral part in dealing the killing blow to our giant sand worm nemesis, once Sun said "Quick! Say something cool!"

1) I hope you enjoyed your flight. Exits are located at the barrel of my gun.

2) I'm not taking that bait.

3) Don't send a worm to do a grimm's job.

4) The winds of fortune blow against you.

5) Let your death serve as warning to your brethren.

In truth, almost anything would have been better than what I actually said, which was something to the effect of "Um… we won? Congratulations to Team SAWS, with a 'B' somewhere in it, I suppose?". Shiv wasn't wrong to point out that it was an awful line as Cinnamon merely put her face in her hand and shook her head in my general direction, but he is an asshole for driving the point even further home. I'm not cut out to be the action hero, nor did I sign on to be one, despite taking the lead on our surprisingly successful mission. I am happy to report that no one was hurt in the scuffle, and I apparently have a knack for commanding others into working together effectively on the fly.

To rewind, our party of five left the Folly early in the morning, just after sunrise. Blake did indeed stay with me throughout my watch, and in time, we actually managed to hold a conversation for about an hour. It started not long after my previous entry was finished and I took to simply leaning against one of the raised sections of the watchtower turret while staring out over the sands.

Blake asked me if I was keeping a journal to help organize my thoughts, or simply record a historical log. I told her that it was an ever-changing running document, with the tentative intention of being gifted to someone special. She told me that the notion was sweet, and that she hoped that whoever received it appreciated the gesture, as she personally finds written word to be a deep and meaningful form of self-expression. From there, the conversation spiraled a bit out of control, and covered a range of topics from books and poetry to historical records and plays. Eventually, I managed to pull from Blake that she believes the very act of thinking it necessary to put something into writing proves that whatever is written is meaningful to at least one person, and often more. That is a notion I plan to hold on to, for the future. I quite like that line of thinking, and I think it puts some of the things I've written here into a new perspective. This journal is more than my thoughts. It's my outlook on my life, in the past and present, and I want to share the way it changes over time.

By the time our little talk drew to a natural close, Cin, Sun, and Shiv had awakened, and the five of us went about a mostly silent process of preparation for the coming fight. Little was said amongst us as we made our way out into the sands and set up where we thought the worm would breach the dunes. Shiv followed the rest of us from atop the cliff that houses the watchtower, and I led the rest of the group forward to get set up and prepare to fight. In time, we found a patch of desert that had several large, flat rocks strewn about that could act as stable ground. Our enemy made itself known not long afterward, and the fight kicked off in typical Vacuan style- chaotic, confusing, and full of flying sand.

The worm was large- much larger than I expected, and likely the largest I've ever seen. It was the color of the brown-orange rocks that dot the area, and featured a red frill around where I assume its face would be, if it had visible eyes. Its maw was wide enough to swallow any vehicle in the White Fang caravan, and the beast itself was long enough to get the entire job done in one traveling swallow. Armored plates and spines ran the length of its sides and back- some were straight, though most were warped and gnarled, likely from years of colliding into subterranean rock. It looked angry, hungry, and ready for a fight. Fortunately, we were more than prepared to provide.

I will give Shiv credit, yet again- from the very second that the worm emerged from beneath the sand, our mink friend began peppering the beast with high caliber, dust-coated slugs. I have a feeling that his constant stream of gunfire had something to do with the worm's mood, and Cin firing bolts into the spaces between its armored plates likely didn't help. Surprisingly, Blake and Sun both actually waited for my command before charging in, and I managed to divide us up to take different sections and sides of the worm, as appropriate. There really weren't any close calls throughout the fight, but between the worm's constant burrowing and the general confusion of our assault, I quickly realized that we weren't making much progress toward bringing it down.

After something like fifteen minutes of fruitlessly wailing on the sand worm, I decided to focus my attention on Blake and Sun. Funnily enough, the two have complimentary semblances- Sun can call forth mobile clones while he himself is rooted to the spot, while Blake can call stationary shadows while she is free to move about the area. That observation led to the formation of a plan, and a rather risky move that put both Cin and I in danger. I instructed Blake to project a clone of herself near to a spire of rock jutting from the sand, during a period when the worm had submerged itself. Afterward, I had Sun call forth one of his glittering doubles to lure the worm over to Blake's projection. The beast took the bait, and as it moved to swallow both of the projections, I called for Cin to take my hand and channel my semblance along with me. The two of us worked to summon the fiercest winds we could to buffet the worm upward, and we wound up impaling its gullet cleanly onto the spire of rock. The gambit cost us both all of our auras, given the weight of the worm, but the thing ended up thrashing and bleeding upon the rock as my four comrades opened fire into its throat.

The combined, focused fire and rocky lance protruding up through the side of the sand worm's skull was enough to expose the brain of the beast to a killing blow, and I was quick enough to capitalize upon the opportunity. Climbing the worm and running along it as it was thrashing wasn't quite what I'd refer to as 'fun', but it was necessary to get a clean shot at the creature's vital organ before it managed to wrest itself from its temporary entrapment. Upon arriving at the head of the worm, I engaged the triple-barrel mode of my fan and fired several shotgun shells into the brain at point blank range. It wasn't long before the beast stopped moving, and I made a surprisingly smooth and clean dismount before ruining it with my fumbling line. Such is life, I suppose.

The reward money was quite good, even when split five ways, and the people of Harold's Folly were incredibly grateful for our efforts at slaying the troublesome beast. Though we were done with our hunt and the formalities that came afterward by early afternoon, the five of us decided to return to the watchtower and simply spend the remainder of the day in each other's company; talking, drinking, and sharing stories. To my surprise, Blake seemed to have no problem joining us in drinking, despite her age. To no one's surprise, Sun was suddenly much more interested in the idea than he was back in Shade after seeing that Blake was participating. Perhaps even less surprising is that Blake can hold her alcohol quite well for a girl so young, while Sun is such a lightweight that he makes me feel as though I am a paragon of masculinity. For that, I am grateful.

I am also grateful that Sun doesn't have much hair, and so, I didn't have to hold any of it back after he ended up vomiting behind the watchtower. I saw the sickness coming, and politely informed the rest of the group that Sun and I were taking a walk to talk about 'man things', which, in retrospect, is possibly the weakest cover story I have ever invented. Fortunately, Blake didn't seem to care at the time, Shiv was drunk enough to be genuinely and somewhat creepily nice to us, Cin was preoccupied with her drink, and I was only a little buzzed. Therefore, it all worked out, and I ended up awkwardly rubbing Sun's back as he doubled over and continued to be sick into the sand. Between bouts of retching, Sun informed me that it was actually his first time drinking, and I was less than shocked by the fact. I fully intended to tell him that he didn't need to push himself to try to impress Blake, when she appeared to do it for me.

For all of the ice that seems to be perpetually around her personality, Blake was rather warm and comforting toward Sun in his moment of embarrassment. She told him that she appreciated the gesture, but that he should focus on doing what's best for himself, rather than the social dynamics of the group. After offering a quick 'feel better', she disappeared for the rest of the night, and Sun seemed to deflate a bit. I provided the boy with water and some words of encouragement, before taking him out for an actual walk to get away from the smell of sickness, the rest of the group, and the town itself.

I must admit, the more time I spend alone with Sun, the more I like the boy, and I'm not just saying that in case Cin does indeed wind up with this journal someday. In some ways, Sun is the boy that I wish I had been while growing up, and who I could have been had I not made so many mistakes. He's innocent, driven, passionate, and caring- all things that I've been missing in my life for quite some time, now, but things that I'm happy to see in Cin's little brother. Things that I want to become again, for her sake, and for his. I was a little disappointed when Sun told me that he needed to return to the orphanage and resume his "job" there, as well as his secondary duty of keeping Cin's home in order. Apparently, there's another former tenant of the orphanage around Sun's age taking care of things in his absence, but she doesn't plan to stay indefinitely like he has been. He only gave her name as 'Swirls', and then proceeded to explain that she's mute, and never gave anyone there another name, so it stuck. Sun had invented it himself, apparently, as her hair reminds him of some sort of ice cream. He also told me that it would all make sense once we met upon our return to Shade, and I pray that he's right, because his entire explanation of her sounded rather incoherent and nonsensical.

In retrospect, I knew that Sun's departure was coming, but losing him once our party returns to Shade is going to sting a bit, and I do plan to check in with him every so often, via scroll. Regardless, with the sand worm dead and our group scheduled to begin the return trip to Shade tomorrow, this really isn't about reflecting and bonding with Sun anymore. Soon, everything in my life is going to become laser focused on one thing, and one thing alone- the White Fang, and Cin's role within it. I get the feeling that Blake is going to be following us, and that when it's just me and three members of the Fang sitting in a room somewhere, they're going to have words with me about the future. I'm not sure if I'm ready for what they'll suggest, beg of me, or potentially demand, but I know for a fact that I'm not ready to walk out on Cin over any of it. Even if the party really is nearing its end, I plan to bring her home with me.

For now, though, as the day winds down, and I find myself standing watch once again, I can't help but feel strangely content. Knowing that I no longer need to determine my direction in life on my own is oddly liberating, and I'm looking forward to the future, struggles and all. I think, for now, I'm going to focus on simply bonding with my "team" and enjoying the ride back to Shade for the next few days, and I'll return to this little book once my path is decided.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

More and more unexpected faces are going to show up over time, until this story neatly intersects with _Arboretum _canon. Once we hit that point, though, this journal will be pausing until the main story catches up. I won't be spoiling events there in Dai's writing. This is merely supplemental stuff.

**-RD**


	12. Unburial

It's not that I forgot that this journal existed; it's more that I couldn't find time to write until just now, days later, on Cin's balcony back within Shade while she's getting some affairs in order downstairs. So much has gone on- some of it good, some of it tense, and some of it decidedly neutral and/or terrifying. I'm going to start at the beginning, because I find that I tend to write in sprawling time-loops that confuse even me when I reread these entries. Never once have I claimed to be a wordsmith.

The ride back to Shade was mostly uneventful, though the conversations and interactions I had with my "team" were anything but. Cin and I continued to share a couch at night, and in truth, throughout most of the day, as well. There was far more cuddling, affection, and innocent touching than I ever thought myself to be capable of, but I'm certainly not complaining. The young members of the RV, driver excluded, as I do not know their age, seem more than comfortable with us "being us", as Sun put it. Blake even told me privately by a campfire last night that she thinks Cin and I are "cute" together. I don't think I've ever been called cute before, or bundled into a "cute" description, but I'll take it. Blake seems sophisticated and knowledgeable, and her insistence of my cuteness only makes me feel more strongly that I'm right about her. She also reads a lot of books, and people who read books tend to be smart.

Shiv hates books, and finds them boring. That came out in a conversation, somewhere along the journey. Not that I'm implying anything, of course- just a random anecdote.

Speaking of sleeping, cuteness, and books, there was a fun little moment two nights ago when conversation was winding down and the hour was getting late. Sun and Blake shared the couch opposite Cin and I, while Shiv leaned up against the nearby wall with his arms folded, likely thinking about how he could subtly murder me in my sleep and try to win back Cin. Regardless, Blake eventually nestled into Sun's shoulder and fell asleep while the boy was in the middle of asking me about my plans moving forward. In perhaps the most evil thing any of us have done thus far in our lives, we refused to help Sun when he panicked, and simply left him with his companion to go and make camp for the night watch outside. By the time I returned, his head was atop hers, and they were both asleep.

Progress. Maybe.

The only other incident of note from the ride, really, is a walk I went on with Shiv early this morning, when we were only around six more hours out from Shade. We trudged through the sands in silence for quite a while, before he spoke up and asked me what I wanted out of life. It took me far too long to dredge up an answer from within my mind, but oddly enough, Shiv was patient and gracious that I even tried. I settled for an extremely lame answer of "fulfillment". I told him that I want to be satisfied with wherever I end up, and feel as though I've done my best and truly reached my potential. I also told him that thus far in life, I had neither of those feelings. Shiv's response both makes me think he's an even bigger asshole than I thought, and simultaneously makes me feel horrible for him. I'm not sure which of those feelings is going to win out in time, but the man really, really needs someone to rein him in and knock some sense into him. He also needs a partner, badly.

Shiv wants to be appreciated, in a general sense, by everyone. He wants the world to know his name, and speak it fondly for all the good he believes he does. In short- Shiv is convinced that he has indeed done his best and reached his potential for his current age and position in life, and thinks that he's underappreciated within that role. He explained to me that it feels like everything he does gets overshadowed, be it by the achievements of others, events going on at the campus of Shade or elsewhere in Vacuo, or passed over as just one part of the cumulative efforts of the White Fang. He also expressed that quite often, a "newcomer" will appear suddenly and steal his thunder and deserved attention from those who should be giving him more of it. That statement wasn't subtle in the least, and I know exactly where it was targeted. Shiv has an ego bigger than the desert itself, but at the same time, I can't deny that he may have a point.

Throughout all of our teamwork and preparation for the sand worm hunt, no one thanked Shiv for finding us the opportunity, so far as I am aware. The battle itself became a topic of ongoing conversation within the RV, and I received a fairly undue amount of praise for leading us to victory, when in reality, everyone contributed something to the fight. Sun and Blake received praise for coordinating their clone strikes so efficiently, and Cin's acrobatics and deft maneuvering to lure and outpace the sand worm, as well as her semblance, were hot topics of conversation. Not once did I hear anyone compliment Shiv on his sniping ability, be it for his uncanny accuracy, or his incredible skill at timing shots to draw the worm's attention away from one of us while we were vulnerable. I did notice it throughout the fight, but even I didn't think to say anything during or after the fight. In fact, I'm pretty sure everyone noticed it, and yet, no one said anything. Even if we would have won without him, our job would have been made much more difficult. In truth, I can't really fault him for wanting more attention, and acting the way he does to try to get it.

After all, is that not how I've lived most of my life?

Every questionable decision I've made was in the interest of getting attention. I joined the Pewter Road Bandits to get more attention from Sienna, and I stayed with Cin and her caravan to get more attention from her. Even now, my every move is calculated to make sure that Cin sees what I'm doing, and I would be lying if I said that my interest in Sun is entirely altruistic. I'd love to think it is, but I'm also not a saint. As much as I like the boy and want to get to know and support him, I also know that getting close to him gets me closer to Cin, as well. I'm not proud that such a thing is factored into my every interaction with him, but I'm also not enough of a bastard to deny it entirely. I honestly hate these moments alone with Shiv, because I'm finding him more and more relatable, and more and more like a somewhat warped mirror. He's making me think about things I'd rather not consider, and that pattern is going to continue, moving forward. During our walk, though, I did the only thing I could think to do- I told him that I appreciated him. He merely laughed, because of course he did. I wanted to punch him in his smug little mink-face, but I refrained. We were silent for the rest of our outing. I don't know what to do with these thoughts and feelings I have about him, so I'm shoving them aside as best I can, for now.

It was late afternoon by the time we returned to Shade. Cin, Blake, and Shiv all had to go to Shiv's dorm in order to "discuss their next move" as they put it, and I volunteered to walk Sun back to the orphanage before parting ways, for now. Upon arrival, I did indeed meet "Swirls", who I will admit reminds me of ice cream as well. Everything from her mismatched pink and brown eyes and hair to her strategically ripped clothing seemed as though it was built to be alluring, and Sun and I appear to both be thankfully immune to her charms. I really don't have much to say about her, considering we couldn't exactly hold a conversation, but Sun seemed perfectly capable of reading her body language, expressions, and hand motions as a sort of second language. It was impressive to watch, if a little hard to follow. One final note on Swirls, though- she's the kind of girl who doesn't smile. Instead, she smirks. It's a wicked, calculating smirk that reminds me a bit of Cin, and that notion terrifies me. I'm honestly somewhat unnerved by her, and thankful that I likely won't be seeing much of the girl.

After a round of what essentially became conversational charades, Swirls went off to tend to something in the kitchen while Sun and I retreated to the upper floor to get away from the swarming crotchgoblins that comprise the tenants of the orphanage. I knew that yet more awkwardness was coming, but I wasn't prepared to receive a tight hug from the boy. I am not a hugger, and I still tense when Cin touches me. Regardless, I returned the gesture, and promised Sun that I would check in on him before inevitably leaving Shade. We had a very short talk about the future, and I encouraged his desire to eventually joining a Huntsman's Academy, be it Shade, or anywhere else. He's clearly fit for it, good at fighting, and willing to help people, and I can see him succeeding. Leaving him once again in that run-down building wasn't my idea of a good time, but it was necessary. I hope that I'll be able to see him with some frequency, and I do mean that, even if Cin and I split for some reason.

That leads to the way that the early evening began, and the uncomfortable event that dragged through much of the night. I made my way to Shiv's dorm, only to find the most predictable thing imaginable- Cin was sat on the bed, Shiv was leaning against the wall, and Blake was perched upon the windowsill, looking out over the campus as she let one leg dangle toward the floor and curled the other under herself. All three were waiting for me with an agenda in mind, and I knew exactly what was coming. The conversation wasn't exactly hostile, but it was certainly tense, and long. It took the trio just under two hours to convince me to accompany them to the White Fang Headquarters to meet Ghira Belladonna, the esteemed High Leader. To be honest, I knew that I would from the start, but I couldn't stop myself from resisting the suggestion with every fiber of my being, and making it known that I don't support the Fang. Shiv and Blake were surprisingly reasonable about that fact, and that made the entire thing easier. Even so, I still feel a bit dirty, especially with the unexpected knowledge that I became privy to after agreeing to meet Ghira.

The "White Fang Headquarters" in Mistral is a lie. A lieutenant by the name of Adam Taurus is stationed there, and when it seems that Ghira's presence may be needed in Mistral, he is summoned ahead of time to occupy the base. At all other times, Ghira is here, in Vacuo, and running things from behind the scenes at an entirely separate base. There are no White Fang in Vacuo because they are well hidden, by not being hidden at all- every vendor, every tavern owner, every resident around Shade Academy is a member of the Fang, and the headmaster is a faunus sat firmly in Ghira's pocket. I'd imagine that influencing goings-on within the Academy isn't too difficult when orders are given from a bunker beneath the school, after all. Not every student here is a member of the Fang, but honestly, not every student needs to be. Those that need to know will know, and those that don't need to know can function as cover, as Shiv put it to me. There are entrances and exits in ruins beneath the sands that lead to and from the school, and I'll apparently be shown one of them tomorrow morning. I'm filled with anxiety and tension over the news that such a huge secret was divulged to me, as I know my life may well be on the line, should I behave in a way that the Fang doesn't approve of. It's a huge gamble on my part and theirs to meet Ghira, and there are a lot of drawbacks for Cin, Shiv, and Blake that are leading me to wonder just what they're thinking.

I made it very clear from the start that I wasn't at all interested in joining the Fang, and they all seemed strangely okay with that line in the sand. I informed them that I knew of some of the exploits of the Fang, and approved of almost none of them, as they had gotten people hurt and killed. They were calm and patient in explaining how those were fringe cases, and regrettable. Eventually, I ran out of both points and steam against the Fang, and Cin was the one to land the finishing blow and convince me to just talk to Ghira and hear him out. I again insisted that I wouldn't join, and Cin reassured me that even though that was the case, it wouldn't affect our relationship at all. I think that was really all I needed to hear in order to give in and at least make an attempt. After all, Cin has become my priority, now, and her wellbeing and satisfaction trumps my own. I know that such a thing probably isn't healthy, but her smile and kisses are worth it. For her, I'm going to try to listen, and not be too harsh when I talk to the High Leader.

Writing any of this down more or less puts a price on my head, should anyone find this journal, Cin included. Regardless, I feel that I need to keep a record, and it could even be used as collateral in the future. I have no idea what tomorrow is going to bring, and I have no idea what to say to Ghira. I just hope that all of this functions to help me move forward and figure out where I want to be. For the foreseeable future, I want to be in Shade, and learn what I can about the Fang. After that, I'll talk to Cin, and we'll make a plan. Naturally, though, plans mean very little. I'm a bit nervous, and I need to go and receive a dose of cuddles to have any chance of sleep tonight. Shiv is staying in his dorm, and Blake is returning to the bunker beneath the school to see her parents. Sun is pulling an overnight shift at the orphanage, so it's just Cin and I in the house tonight. I get the feeling we're going to do more talking than sleeping.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

And so, things are starting to ramp up. Get ready for more characters and some information on the Fang in the world of _Arboretum_.

Yes, that does mean Best Girl will be showing up soon.

**-RD**


	13. Pivot

I've never really been one for complex feelings. I generally know what I think of a given situation almost immediately, and the complexity comes in formulating the best approach through which to express myself and move things toward whatever my goal may be at the time. This situation, though, with Ghira, the White Fang, Cin, and Shade itself, is unlike any other I've ever encountered. I was devastated when my parents were slain, but the pain of loss and heartbreak worked as a catalyst to move me forward. I was angry and bitter when Sienna and I split up, but it gave me new direction. Now, though, in this current predicament? I have no goal in mind anymore, and I have no concrete feelings atop which I can build a new one. I simply feel trapped- lured into a spider's web, only to find out that the spider simply wants someone they can trust to patrol the edges for them. I don't know what to do, I don't know if what I've done is right, and I don't know how I feel about anything in my life anymore, other than Cin. I guess she'll have to be my anchor, because nothing else is consistent.

It's been three days since I spoke to Ghira, and in that time, I've found myself unable to muster the mental fortitude to make a record of events. Simply getting the events and details in order is a struggle enough, but putting what I've done to paper and making it real is almost as terrifying as the reality of the situation. I've barely eaten or slept, and I was specifically told to take some time to myself and do what I need to do for myself in order to regain functionality. Cin was given clearance to accompany me in that endeavor, and we've spent the past few days in her house simply talking through events. Blake stopped by, and offered some perspective, as well. She told me that she has someone for me to meet soon, but that she figured I would be overwhelmed, and it could wait. I haven't seen Shiv since going down into that bunker, and I can't bring myself to face Sun. Honestly, I don't know if I'll be able to, moving forward. I can't lie as well as some people, and I know it.

The physical intricacies of the White Fang bunker are honestly unimportant compared to what transpired within Ghira's office, so I'll cover that later. Ghira Belladonna is one of those people that I think could accurately be described as "larger than life", in physical appearance, overall presence, and significance. I've seen pictures, of course, but watching him stand from behind the desk to find out that he's nearly two heads taller than me was a bit disconcerting. I'm rather tall, and the few times I've met people taller, I can't exactly say I've been dwarfed. This was just sad, as was the fact that one of his biceps is thicker than my tail. He speaks in a slow, measured tone, which combined with his incredibly deep voice gives the feeling of speaking to some sort of wise and powerful patriarch of a clan, which I suppose he is. Our meeting started with a simple handshake, during which I think he destroyed every bone up to my wrist. He asked me to sit across from him, and I did. Fortunately, he guided the majority of the conversation, because I had no idea what to say to such a legendary figure, even if he is one that has caused so much tension between faunus and humans.

Ghira opened by asking what I'd heard about the Fang, and he specifically requested for me to be honest. Naturally, I became inclined to be a little less than honest at first, and simply told him that I had heard disputes had gotten worse lately, and protests were being met with some humans widening the racial divide even more. At that point, Ghira told me to give him my own opinion rather than that of a journalist, and I believe I may have gone overboard.

I told him about the things I'd seen in Mistral, and how the members of the Fang I'd met had seemed unhinged and as though they wanted to worsen the problem rather than solve it. I told him that I'd heard tales of kidnappings, ransoms being demanded and stolen, humans being butchered, and politicians attacked. I told him that I suspected the White Fang were one of the reasons my parents were slaughtered, and I told him that I resented his organization, and by extension, Ghira himself, more than the majority of humans I'd met. I generally try not to make a scene or lose my temper, but I will readily admit that I failed in that pursuit during our meeting. I was expecting Ghira to come across the desk and slam me into a wall, and what I received instead was a heartfelt apology. Somehow, his words extinguished my anger more quickly than it had been stirred up, and I simply sat and listened to what he had to say.

The White Fang is out of control, by Ghira's own admission. It began with humble intentions, between a group of three friends, and was founded as a mostly peaceful movement to raise awareness and take the fight to those deserving of it. In time, it ballooned to something that has encompassed all of Remnant, and Ghira is finding that he and his wife are no longer capable of keeping so many members with so many diverse opinions and moral standards in check. The White Fang has grown far beyond what it once was, to the point where Ghira feels that the organization is effectively no longer "his", though the debt of responsibility for the actions of all of its members still falls squarely upon his shoulders. It's unfortunate, to be sure, but that is the burden of a leader. Even so, I do feel sympathy for him, and I told him as much. He told me that he feels the same way for me, and it was then that he called Cin into the office.

Cin seemed very surprised to be pulled into our meeting, and I believe that she was being genuine when she looked tense and uneasy. She immediately went for my hand, and I was all too happy to offer it as she sat beside me. The pair of them explained together that the meeting was set up with the intention of helping me to understand why Cin had joined the Fang, and that issues and problems were being addressed and worked on. I rose the point that while Ghira had told me of the root of the problem plaguing the Fang, he hadn't even begun to discuss solutions, or offer insight on a plan moving forward. He agreed, and said that he was stalling for time, as he knew that things were about to become unpleasant. I was expecting him to tell me that such things were unfixable, or that I was simply going to have to deal with things as they are, or worse- leave Cin, and keep the secrets of the Fang safe, while being watched by assassins.

I was not expecting to be offered a position within the White Fang, nor was I expecting Cin to react so negatively to the proposition. I've never heard her yell before, and I honestly hope that I don't hear it again anytime soon. She's somehow more intimidating than Ghira, when she's pissed off.

The ensuing argument lasted well over an hour. Cin went off on her leader for "betraying her trust" by trying to get me involved when she had apparently told him specifically not to approach me about joining the Fang. Her reasons involved everything from wanting to protect me to feeling like her own involvement was a mistake, which seemed to cut Ghira rather deeply. Despite all of her vitriol and admittedly solid points, Ghira simply took it all in stride and calmly explained that the solution to reeling in the Fang and getting the current situation under control is bringing on more people that share his viewpoint and act as an extension of his will for the future of the organization. I asked him what his views were, and they very much align with my own- he just wants to be understood, seen, and feel validated on the world stage. He wants the rest of the Fang to see that through charisma, dialogue, and public displays of good will, the faunus can be better appreciated. He wants Cin, Blake, Shiv, and I to travel to the Mistral base and take over for his lieutenant, Adam Taurus, who is apparently the source of many of the problems within the Fang.

Apparently, Cin knew about her impending relocation, but she wanted me to come along of my own volition. Ghira insisted that I would still be doing so, and that choosing to sign on with the Fang, or not, would make little different. He simply sees it as a vote of confidence, and an allotment of power and influence over a small unit of Fang that I wouldn't otherwise have. The conversation at that point took a turn very similar to the one I had with Cin, Blake, and Shiv in his dorm, in which Ghira shot down every point that I tried to make against joining the organization, though he did it far more kindly than Shiv. Finally, I asked him why he would offer me such a thing, of all people, and he simply explained that he trusted Cin, and knew that anyone who had her heart was someone worthy of trust and respect. I don't quite know the extent of Ghira and Cin's relationship, but I intend to find out soon. I suppose I'll have a lot of time to get into it with her, in Mistral, but there certainly seems to be some deeper connection there than what I originally thought.

I feel almost sick writing this, but I've joined the White Fang. I know that it's probably hopeless, but I believe in Ghira's vision, and I believe in Cin. It goes against everything I've had planned for myself up to this point in time, but to be here right now, with her, feels right. It doesn't feel easy or comfortable, by any means, but right decisions seldom do. Ghira didn't exactly seem overjoyed, and Cin said nothing more to him as we left the office, but she said more than enough to me once we arrived back at her place. I was told several times that I didn't have to join for her sake, and I told her several times that it wasn't just for her. This can't be another situation like the one with Sienna, and I can confidently say that it isn't. I'm not doing this for sex, or even affection. I'm doing this because Ghira truly thinks I can help fix this mess, and it's been quite some time since someone told me they believed I was capable of something greater. I asked Cin if she thought that I could actually make a difference, and she begrudgingly admitted that she believes it, too.

I've gone back and forth a lot over the past few days, in terms of how I feel. Ghira told me that I could back out before heading to Mistral, but once I made that jump, I can't exactly "leave" the White Fang. I somehow get the feeling that it isn't a threat, so much as a warning of what others will think and do if I make the attempt. I think the only way I would leave is with Cin, which does align with my original plan, in some ways. I just didn't expect to join with her, nor did I expect her to be upset that I'm committing myself to this. I guess all that's left is to get some rest, refocus, and get ready for whatever lies ahead in Mistral.

I'm also going to have to do some digging on Adam Taurus, when I get the chance.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Still a long way off from this intersecting with _Arboretum_ canon, fortunately, but this journal is going to start establishing White Fang background and insider information for that universe.

**-RD**


	14. The Unfinished Forge

I've been described as slow and ponderous before, by many people. Naturally, those people assure me that by "slow" they don't mean "mentally" almost immediately afterward, but I always feel like I should tell them that such a thing is a fair assessment. All people have their stupid, nonsensical hang-ups and tendencies, but mine consistently get me in trouble, and they're consistently driven by fear. More often than not, that fear is of myself, and what I may or may not be capable of. I've always been terrified that I could be swayed to start seeing the White Fang as sympathetic, and that the situation would escalate if I did. Now, that very thing has happened, and I feel less afraid, and more "sick", though not in a conventional sense. I feel like willingly walking into the mire that is the White Fang is to surround myself with disease, pestilence, violence, and ill will of my own volition. I feel like I'm drawing in everything I've been trying to stave off, and I can only hope that doing so makes me stronger, and that I can use that strength to help the Fang become what it should be. It may be a fool's errand, but I'm just the sort of fool that Ghira was looking for, it seems. I'm used to being seen as a fool, so I may as well embrace it.

I do believe that I've hit a point in my life where secrecy is not only pointless, but it could get me killed, when applied badly. Secrecy driven by fear is a bad habit to begin with, and at this point in my relationship with Cin, and my approaching role as a "leader" of sorts within the White Fang, I think it's time that I record the truth here for posterity, and for my own benefit. I spoke to Cin about my parents today, and she spoke to me about some aspects of her upbringing in Lower Atlas. I wouldn't dare write down what she told me here, for her sake, but I can say that she seemed just as afraid to tell me about herself as I was to explain what happened to my parents, not so long ago. The support that she offered me afterward was unlike any I've ever received, and it only solidified my feelings for her even further. I tried my best to reciprocate, but I feel like I failed. Cin can perfectly understand my problems and need for secrecy, but I can't really relate to hers. That being said, I'm going to keep trying, and I'm going to find a way to become the man that she deserves.

I'd like to begin by saying that I haven't been entirely truthful about myself, in some entries of this journal. I was indeed born in Harold's Folly, and my parents did take me to Higanbana, for the majority of my upbringing. However, Higanbana is not where they died, nor is it where I joined the Pewter Road Bandits. Anyone deeply familiar with the roads of Anima would know that Pewter Road is nowhere near Higanbana- it actually runs straight through Oniyuri. If the name "Oniyuri" is an unfamiliar one, I can't say that I'm surprised. Few people have heard of it, and even fewer know what happened there. I suspect that fact is by design.

Oniyuri is, or more accurately, was a small village occupied solely by faunus out in the countryside of Anima. Residents of Higanbana who were growing tired of the Mistrali government's stranglehold on trade, commerce, and the very law of the town itself set out to create their own little community. My parents were among that population, and given that the town was occupied solely by faunus, it wasn't long before the White Fang took note. Over time, my father rose to become the leader of the village, and as members of the Fang assisted with the construction efforts, he cut deals and used their vast resources and expertise in manual labor to speed the construction of the town. What would become a half-finished, rather sprawling village was erected in far less time than anticipated, and my father was hailed as a hero for his ambition, resourcefulness, and successes. Everyone grew confident and comfortable in short order, and things were good, for several months. That should have been the first sign that something terrible was coming.

Mistrali enforcers and officials began showing up at the gates of Oniyuri. Naturally, they were met with members of the Fang who stood their ground and threatened to chase them out of town. I was just old enough to be impressed by how my faunus brethren, my father included, stood up to such imposing figures and insisted that the land, laws, and profits were theirs. I was also just young enough not to understand why the first visit should have been the last, before change was enacted on our end. Undercutting one of the four kindgoms, especially one as corrupt as Mistral is rumored to be, is to invite disaster. Over time, Atlesian officials began to visit as well, and the looming sense of impending doom only intensified. Oniyuri being unfinished made it an easy target, but I was under the impression that with half of the town built, we were invincible, and capable of real change. We were not. I trusted my father to be able to shield us from anything that came our way. He couldn't.

I was knee-deep in my work with the Pewter Road Bandits, and my relationship with Sienna, when things came to a head. I still don't know all of the details of what happened, but I'll never forget what I saw upon returning home from a highway raid. Oniyuri was in flames, and the half-finished collections of buildings that I had come to call home were mere blackened husks. Being the stupid adolescent that I was, I ran straight into the conflagration to try to find my parents. All that I found were flames, ruins, bodies both familiar and not, and very few survivors. My parents weren't among the survivors. I'd honestly prefer if it was later revealed that they were in the scheme that caused the blaze, and I would have to bring them to justice on some twisted hero's journey, just so that they could be alive again. Identifying their warped, charred bodies dashed any hopes of such things, and also scarred me for life. Sienna wanted to use the occasion as an impetus for justice, and an excuse to work more closely with the White Fang. I, quite frankly, just wanted to die, and that fact is still true, on some days.

I blame the abrupt ending to our relationship on both Sienna and myself, though Cin insists that it was entirely her fault. Instead of support and understanding from Sienna, I received passion and anger. Perhaps that isn't entirely fair- she was indeed supportive and there for me in the immediate aftermath, but she moved beyond grieving and into righteous anger far too quickly for me to keep pace. Where she wanted to burn a supply line for every house that the arsonists took down, I wanted to abandon all criminal activity and find somewhere quiet to hide and live out the rest of my life in fear. I once thought that Sienna's callous, businesslike nature helped me to cope with frivolous problems, and acted as a rock to lean against when I was feeling weak. Unfortunately, it also drove me to feel as though she really didn't care when actual important problems came about. My entire life changed in a day, and Sienna refused to accept that I had changed along with it. For that reason, I walked away… though Cin has also informed me that Sienna is now in the Fang, so I suppose a tense reunion is inevitable.

I didn't leave Oniyuri immediately. In fact, some of the survivors assumed that I would pick up where my father left off, and begin to lead the village in a reconstruction effort. The very thought of trying to live up to his ambition and influence still turns my stomach, and I immediately declined to even make the effort. The remaining villagers of Oniyuri began to look at me with disgust and disappointment, though Sienna's cold reaction had already prepared me to deal with such things. I spent my remaining time in the village carrying out my own investigation- taking eyewitness accounts, surveying damage, and searching for clues. By the time I finished, I found only a few useful things- my mother's fan, the fact that most people agreed that a giant, previously unseen grimm had attacked Oniyuri, and the fact that somehow, mysteriously, the vast majority of the lien and supplies in Oniyuri had disappeared during that very same grimm attack.

I don't know if it was an inside job. I don't know if someone found a way to control grimm, or if it was all a coincidence and those that ransacked and set fire to the village used the random attack as cover. At this point, I don't know if that particular grimm hoards lien, and was simply acting on its own nature, but I do know that I'm still committed to finding out the truth. I have a funny feeling that getting close to Ghira Belladonna is going to make that easier, and that he may know, or be able to find something about what happened. I floated the idea by Cin, and she agrees that he'll be both willing and able to help me. After all, he helped walk her back from the edge, and his heart is in the right place. I'm not sure that mine is, given the fact that I'm partially using the act of joining the White Fang for my own personal gain, but I do believe that finding answers about Oniyuri will benefit other people, as well.

On the topic of my moral compass and motivations, I'm not sure what it says about me that I was surprised by the outpouring of affection, both physical and not, that I received from Cin tonight. Even after she filled me in on her own secrets, she tended to me with a level of care and compassion that bordered on being awkward. All of that awkwardness came from me, naturally, and she stuffed any attempts I made to comfort her by making my feelings the priority. I get the feeling that she can read me like a book, and for someone like me, who despises elaborating on their thoughts and emotions, that suits me just fine. Whatever it is that we have going on, it's certainly "real", and far removed from what I had with Sienna. The relationship isn't without baggage from both of us, but it's all worth it. After all, a part of why I joined the White Fang was indeed for her, though I'll deny that notion to my grave, every time she asks. She asks that quite a lot, and I feel awful lying to her each and every time it comes up.

Tomorrow, I'm headed back down into the bunker to get details, and meet the other new member of my 'squad' that will be heading to Mistral with us. Blake told me that her name is Ilia, she's a chameleon faunus, and that she and I might get along rather well. Given how Blake and I got on during our hunt for the sand worm in Harold's Folly, I'm inclined to trust her judgment. It's sounding like our new party of five is to be myself, Cin, Blake, Shiv, and Ilia. I'm not sure what I expect to find in Mistral, and I'm not sure how we're going to convince Adam Taurus to return to Vacuo. I've heard whispers about the man, but nothing at all concrete. I suppose, at this point, I'm just going to have to see him for myself.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Onward to the Mistral arc. Likely no update next week, because life. Dai's journal will resume soon.

**-RD**


	15. Interventions

I've never traveled by airship before, but it's a feeling that I'm not exactly fond of, and I don't look forward to doing it again any time after this. The wind is harsh and biting, the air is freezing, and the constant rocking back and forth turns my stomach. Fortunately, our trip to Mistral seems like it's going to be a one-way journey, though it is indeed going to take several days. Given the fact that we're trying to remain hidden, the last leg of our journey will need to be on foot, in order to preserve the semi-secrecy of the location of the White Fang's forward base. I'm doing my best to hold in my nausea and keep my complaints about the cold to a minimum, but I've also set myself up to endure more hardship than I need to- I'm sharing a room with Shiv, for the duration of our time on the airship. It wasn't a move that I had planned, and it's honestly not one I'm thrilled about, but it is one that I feel is necessary.

Blake and Ilia are clearly close, to the point that I suspect something more than simple friendship may be going on between the two of them. Additionally, they're both females, so when they practically clung to each other when determining room assignments, no one questioned their motives. The idea that Cin and I would be sharing a room was also taken for granted, and likely explains Shiv's sour mood throughout the morning, as he knew he would be stuck alone for the majority of the flight. I'm getting the sense that Blake isn't his biggest fan, and he certainly doesn't get along with Ilia, for reasons that I'm not yet certain about. Upon partially figuring out the social dynamics of my new "team", I volunteered to bunk with Shiv, and let Cin share a larger room with the other two girls. Everyone seemed incredibly surprised by the move, Cin included, but I did manage to explain it to her later in private. She isn't upset, but she is disappointed. I can't say I blame her, and I plan to make it up to her with kisses, and perhaps, other things.

Fortunately, Shiv seems grateful that I stepped in and shook things up. While I wouldn't call us "best friends" by any means, I feel like I'm understanding him more and more as the days go on, and we're quite firmly opposites in many aspects of life. Hiding my emotions and focusing on others is easy for me, and one of few natural gifts that I'm incredibly grateful for. Shiv, on the other hand, focuses mostly on himself for reasons I've already detailed here, and couldn't hide his emotions if you gave him a literal mask. The disappointment and disgust that was plain on his face as the rooming situation was discussed is what made me suddenly jump in and volunteer to be his roommate. The move did indeed turn his mood around, and while we're not quite at the point of bedding down for the night just yet, and I therefore haven't seen him all that much today, I can tell that he's appreciative of my sacrifice. From someone like him, that's enough to make me feel like I did the right thing. Everyone needs to be in top shape for the journey ahead and our task of relieving Adam from his duties in Mistral. Given that I tend to fall into leadership positions, even though I'd rather not, I want Shiv on my side, ready and willing to back me up when I stumble over my words and make an ass of myself in a key moment. After all, despite the transparency of his motivations, he's a rather convincing, silver-tongued negotiator.

On the subject of negotiation, I spoke to Ghira once again before we left. First, I asked him about Adam, and the situation in Mistral. Literally everything he told me was something that I didn't want to hear, but that's more or less par for the course, at this point. Adam Taurus is an unlicensed former huntsman who attended Beacon Academy in Vale, and one of the founding members of the White Fang. Ghira either couldn't, or more likely, wouldn't tell me why he didn't graduate, or how long he was at the school, but he did say that there was "an incident" that led to him leaving, and the founding of the Fang. Saying that there was "an incident" when it comes to one of the leaders of the Fang is like saying there was "some touching" before a woman suddenly became pregnant, but I wasn't about to press for details, given that I'm the new guy and potentially on thin ice. Ghira explained Adam's views on humans, the outward base, and Mistral to me, and his explanation did little but give me a throbbing headache. I have very little to go on beyond a sealed letter that Ghira asked me to hand-deliver to the man, but I suppose that's better than nothing.

Ghira also told me that two others were in positions of power in Mistral, working alongside Adam. The first is Ghira's wife, Kali Belladonna. Apparently, Kali is working in parallel to Adam, though he is technically in charge of the overall base itself. Kali has the authority to order troops around, us included, and travel between Mistral and Vacuo as she sees fit. It's somewhat fortunate that we aren't being told to try to convince her to return to Vacuo, but at the same time, I pray that she isn't a wrench in our plans to call Adam back. The second figure, predictably, due to my life being what it is, is Sienna Khan, who is now apparently Adam's second in command. I have nothing more to say on that matter at the moment, and I'll jump off that particular bridge when we come to it. I suppose there is one thing to say about that situation, actually- Ghira was perceptive enough to notice my immediate negative reaction upon hearing her name, and informed me that he wasn't going to pry, unless I wanted to share. I chose not to share, which is a move that I feel I may regret, in the future. Even so- I appreciate his calm, understanding approach, especially compared to the approach that most other people have taken when it comes to learning about my past.

Despite declining to share my past with Sienna, I did manage to turn the situation around and use my apparent slip in controlling my expression to my advantage. I told Ghira about my parents and Oniyuri, and played it off as though that was the main source of my hesitance and discomfort throughout our meetings. I get the feeling that he knows it was a façade, and I think he knows that I know. Ghira strikes me as courteous and patient more than anything else, and it's likely those qualities that have kept him in power through the many storms that the Fang has endured up to this point. Oniyuri was one such storm, and Ghira told me that he knew of the incident, but not of any specifics off-hand. The meeting ended with Ghira asking me to give him my scroll information, and in turn he gave me a promise that he would send me anything he managed to dig up about Oniyuri, my parents, or the grimm that was seen in the burning village. In most cases, I would assume that I was merely being placated and blown off by the relatively quick dismissal I received. With Ghira, though, I get the feeling that he wanted to look into the matter as quickly as possible. I trust him, and that's due in no small part to the fact that I get along so well with Blake, which, in turn, is making me somewhat eager to meet Kali. I think, and hope, that the Belladonnas are a good, well-meaning family caught in a bad situation, and not the nefarious criminals that most of the world assumes them to be.

Speaking of introductions, another thing of note today was my introduction to Ilia. Regardless of where we land on the colleague/friendship scale, I will say right now that she's absolutely adorable, and her insistence on being incredibly serious, calm, and reserved at all times only reinforces that fact. On the scale of introversion, where Sun is the most extroverted, outgoing, and happy-go-lucky person I've ever met, Ilia is on the exact opposite end of the spectrum, while Blake is a notch closer to the center, and I sit fairly near to the middle, though still slightly on the side of introverts. Don't get the wrong idea- Ilia was pleasant enough, willing to speak about the mission, and present for every important discussion, but she never once offered her opinion to the group or made her stance clear on anything. She's very much 'along for the ride', somewhat like Shiv seems to be, while Cin, Blake, and I are focused on the specifics of the mission and our approach. I plan on making it a point to get to know Ilia better during our time in Mistral, or perhaps even on the airship, as Blake has told me that it takes a while to get Ilia out of her shell. Blake actually told me many things today after my brief meeting with Ghira, and one in particular is something that's making me feel uneasy.

Adam was apparently Blake's mentor, and I mean that in an all-encompassing sense. He was her sole mentor in combat, while he, Ghira, and Kali were together responsible for Blake's entire education. She was kept out of public schooling for fear that she would be recognizable as the Belladonna daughter, and her very existence has been a secret until recently. Since she's been in public, she's been using her mother's maiden name, "Moonglove", as her own, so I suppose that she wasn't just trying to throw Sun off the trail, but rather, everyone. Regardless- Adam is an important figure to Blake, and one that she admitted she sees almost like a father. In our previous conversations, I did most of the talking, while Blake listened and provided occasional thoughts. This time, the reverse was true, as I was trying to take it all in and determine what Blake was so afraid of. She speaks of Adam with a sort of twisted reverence, but it's permeated by fear. I guess it makes sense, given that he was an apparently harsh master, but still- it's a sort of fear usually reserved for an enemy, rather than someone who is almost family. I'm expecting the worst from this man, and I think Blake knows that. Somehow, though, that fact only makes it all the more unsettling.

I didn't think Blake the type to beg, but she's extremely convincing when she does it. Her eyes and ears are incredibly expressive when she wants them to be, and I can't tell whether or not she was trying desperately to tug at my heartstrings in a manipulative way, or being genuine with me. With Blake, though, I'm going to assume the best, as I truly, genuinely want her and her family to be good people. I can't shake the feeling that I'm baiting and walking into my own trap, but if that's indeed the case, at least I have Cin to help me back out. Blake pleaded with me to keep an open mind about Adam, and not to judge him too harshly. I asked if she thought that I would do such a thing, and she reassured me that I don't seem like the type to rush to conclusions, but the only other people she knew that were "fair" to Adam were her family, Ilia, and Sienna. I didn't have the heart to talk to Blake about just how "fair" Sienna can be to people, and I honestly don't think I'm going to go down that road at all, in the interest of keeping things amicable between us. I guess the fact that Blake apparently doesn't know about Sienna and I is a point in my ex's favor, as she isn't telling everyone about how awful I apparently am. I suppose I'll see how the reunion goes, before I pass judgment on her.

After a little more conversation about our mission, Blake and I parted ways, but not before I offered a hug, which she accepted. I'm not typically one for hugs, but I've come to like Blake, and see her as something approaching a little sister. I have a feeling that my relationship with her is going to become similar to what I have with Sun, and that there will be an equal, or perhaps even greater amount of strings attached at both ends. I promised her that I'll try to be fair to Adam and keep things civil, but I honestly don't know what's about to happen. I feel like I haven't really had a grasp on what's going on in quite a while, but that's nothing new. For now, I'm just going to wait for Shiv to get out of the shower and then take one of my own, before turning in for the night.

Oh, and just for the record- I turned 20 today. With everything going on, I don't think it really matters, and I don't celebrate my birthday, anyway. Part of me feels like I should tell Cin, but I don't want it to be made into a big deal. Too much is going on, and honestly, it isn't important. I don't even know if she would care about that sort of thing, and if she did, I don't want her telling the others. I don't need to be the center of attention, or have people fawn over me for something arbitrary. I'd rather they just do what they need to do, while I work on taking care of all of them.

I think I need to stop writing. I suddenly don't feel so good.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

We're back to updating fairly regularly. Hooray!

**-RD**


	16. Sudden, but Inevitable

I believe I've stated before that I generally dislike violence, and I may have mentioned that it's rather difficult to piss me off, but Shiv just did it in ways that I didn't imagine possible. It's mere hours since my last entry, as I need some way to vent my frustration, and I'm not about to go and dump that burden on Cin while she's trying to rest and catch up with friends. I've relocated to the cargo hold for the night, and turned a vacant net into a passable hammock. Even so, I somehow doubt I'll be getting any sleep at all, despite my insistence on all of us going into Mistral at the top of our game.

It all started with a simple shower, which I needed badly to let off some tension. I'm quite fond of the rain, and I like to laze about in stormy weather to the point of getting utterly soaked. The shower is honestly no different, and I've been known to consistently go last when I'm sharing a bathroom with other people so I can linger and use the remaining hot water without inconveniencing others. Sometimes, just leaning into the shower wall, closing my eyes, and focusing on the gentle touch and sound of the echoing droplets for half an hour is enough to help me feel whole, and tonight, I did exactly that. All of the tension of meeting with Ghira, rooming with Shiv, and thinking about Adam Taurus seemed to melt away beneath the cascading showerhead. I fully intended to exit the shower and talk about something frivolous and pleasant with Shiv for a bit to try to strengthen our bond, before getting some sleep. I walked out of the bathroom wearing a towel, a smile, and feeling renewed.

That feeling changed immediately when I saw Shiv lounging casually atop his bed, this very journal in hand, and his smirk even dirtier than usual.

I don't think I can accurately describe the feeling that came over me after the second of terrified hesitation that passed as I caught sight of him. I also don't know how I would quantify the speed at which I sailed across the room, or the force behind the haymaker I threw for his jaw. I am happy to report, however, that both were fast and hard enough to knock his head into the steel wall of the room and jostle my journal from his hand. Perhaps the second and third punches were uncalled for, but let's be serious, here- so was his sifting through my private thoughts. Some would say that it's my own damned fault for leaving the journal in the open with what few other belongings I have, and perhaps that's correct. I trusted him, and I told him as much. He merely replied that such a thing was a mistake, while rubbing his jaw. I was tempted to punch him again, but somehow managed to refrain. After all, he wasn't wrong.

It took me an incredibly long time to even formulate my questions for Shiv as I stewed in anger at the foot of the bed, and the fact that he seemed entirely unapologetic about the matter only made it harder. Satisfying though it would have been to simply lay into him again, I was keenly aware of the fact that not only would it probably be taken as a gross overreaction by the others, but Shiv would be ready, and likely retaliate. I knew that I needed to deescalate the situation, and that, unfortunately, the one who needed to be brought down was myself. It's an odd feeling, being betrayed and yet also feeling like you're the one at fault, and it's not an unfamiliar one, either. Sienna certainly made sure of that.

I tried my best to stay calm as the interrogation began, but Shiv made it very difficult, as expected. If his semblance isn't making every situation around him infinitely more difficult for his supposed friends, I'll be absolutely shocked. He refused to answer what he had managed to read, beyond the helpful description of "a few things, here and there", and he focused more on criticizing my unfocused, messy, self-loathing style than the actual contents of the journal itself. That alone was almost enough to make me turn tail and leave, but I thought that I would at least ask why he pried into my private life before I left him to his own devices. Surprisingly, he did actually provide me with a complete answer, and it's one that I likely should have seen coming.

Shiv informed me that the entire reason for reading through my writing was to look for anything I had written down about him, and how I truly felt about working at his side. Apparently, he wanted to know whether or not I was being openly pleasant and accommodating while trashing him behind his back, and that such knowledge was worth risking my anger. He told me that it's happened to him several times before, and he wasn't about to invest more in a business partnership than he should, if I actually thought he was a total asshole. I hate that, to an extent, he has a point- some of my words transcribed here about Shiv have been less than kind, but I stand by them, especially now. I told him as much, and he merely shrugged it off, which is something else I should have seen coming. He brought the conversation to a close with a dismissive wave of his hand, and the statement that he would rather betray those around him and know where they really stand than be stabbed in the back, himself. I didn't know what to do with a statement like that, so I left the room in a huff.

I still don't know what to do with that statement.

I'm not usually one to pace, but I spent what felt like half an hour pacing in this hold before getting to work on setting up my hammock. I want to be furious with Shiv, and I am, but I feel more upset with myself than anyone else at the moment. It's impossible to know what he read, what he thinks about me, or what he's going to do with the information herein. I could burn this stupid book and simply deny it all if he says something, but a part of me knows that I need this thing. Putting my true thoughts on paper, no matter how awkward they may be, is a cathartic sort of release unlike even brushing lips with Cin. I'm sure that line will read well when she inevitably gets her hands on this, but at this point? How much worse can things realistically get, within my social circle?

I think I'll ask Cin for advice tomorrow, while we're still in the air and far enough away from our objective to focus a little on trying to feel better. I want so badly to go to her and ask if we could just find and share a room, even this one, for tonight, but I know that ship has sailed. Cin seems too happy to see Ilia again to rain on her parade, and this particular bed is one I made both by leaving my journal out, and volunteering to placate Shiv to begin with. If her reaction to my plight is indeed "so don't leave your journal out in the open, dumbass" as I expect it will be, I'll absolutely deserve it, and that's not something I need to hear from her, right now. I'm honestly not sure what I need to hear, and it's far too soon to start throwing around "I love you"s, so that's off the table entirely.

For now, I'm just going to lay here, try to get some sleep, and wallow in self-pity until sunrise. Perhaps I'm being melodramatic, ridiculous, and petty. Perhaps Shiv is being a weasely little bastard who deserves to be punched far more often. Maybe both of those things are true, but for now, all that matters to me is that I feel like I'm paying for daring to approach a situation with optimism yet again.

Happy birthday to me, I guess.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

And a surprise back-to-back update appears. There's no way I was holding this until next week, especially given how short and important it is. That being said, I don't think it needs to be around the usual length, given the shittiness of Dai's situation. The next entry may be of similar length, given what will happen next. More coming next week, or maybe even this weekend...

**-RD**


	17. Round II

Even now, the majority of a day later, I don't think I could answer which pissed me off more, initially- my makeshift hammock crashing down unceremoniously in the middle of the night, or finding Shiv standing over me, offering me his hand to help me back up from the ground afterward. Apparently, lockpicking is within his repertoire of skills, alongside his perfected usage of his patented condescending glance and pinpoint accuracy with a firearm. Naturally, I slapped his hand away and ordered him to leave the cargo hold. Perhaps more naturally, he merely shrugged, hopped up onto a nearby crate, and began to monologue as I struggled to stand through sudden back pain. I was not expecting what came out of his mouth at all, but all in all, I suppose I'm happy that things worked out the way they did. Despite occurring at 2 in the morning, while I was suffering from a stress headache and a growing bruise from my fall.

Really, Shiv is just lucky that I have the patience of a saint, and that I was horribly crippled before he started speaking. Otherwise, he may have wound up with a bruise worse than mine.

Shiv opened with a heartfelt apology, the kind of which I didn't think he'd be capable. He was oddly quiet, and combined with the pitch blackness of the cargo hold, would have fit right into a depressing scene in some terrible movie. The effect was somewhat ruined by the fact that we can both see fairly well in the dark, but still; the framing was appropriate, if wasted on two faunus. He spent a fair amount of time explaining that he often does things that he regrets later, which I'm still not sure if I believe or not. I was also busy trying to reattach my hammock throughout his opening argument, so I'm not entirely sure on the details of what was specifically being said. I am, however, sure that he sounded like he meant what he was saying, especially as his apology got significantly more interesting.

Apparently, Shiv lied when he was first caught with my journal, and was willing to admit as much after spending some time thinking things over in the cargo hold while I slept. He did not, in fact, snoop through this journal to find out what I'd written about him- he was looking for information about me, and trying to figure out how better to connect with me by reading through my unfiltered thoughts. Shiv knew that doing such a thing was a massive risk, but he's apparently so socially incapable that it was one he was willing to take over simply letting our relationship progress naturally over time. He told me that he doesn't have faith that his grating personality wouldn't sabotage things before we got to a point of becoming legitimate friends, and he was afraid that he would somehow make a mess of things without some inside knowledge. Of course, pursuit of such knowledge only served to ruin his efforts, which he also admitted that he saw coming.

It was around that point in time that I realized Shiv may be the most relatable person I've ever met in my life, and my conflicted feelings started tipping heavily toward pitying him. I once again asked him what exactly he read from my journal, and he again defied my expectations by telling me several specifics. It honestly sounds to me like he started at the beginning and got as deep as he could, which wasn't far at all. Apparently, the last thing he read was that Cin is a fan of marshmallows. I haven't had time to go back and sift through when that was written, but I know that it was early on, and he couldn't have gleaned much about me from that far into the book. Mission failed.

So, essentially, he risked everything for the sake of a better relationship, only to come away with very little and a worse one. I've been there, and I may be there again right now, with several people. Irony may be a heartless mistress, but I am not.

I am also not a mistress, for the record. I have a sinking feeling that in time, I'll find out that Cin has some incredibly fringe and embarrassing kinks, and roleplay dress-up is likely one of them. In such a case, becoming a mistress may be unavoidable. I think I could make a maid's skirt work, in the right scenario. Trying to keep my ass hidden while my tail holds half of it up would be a struggle, though.

If it wasn't abundantly clear, I haven't slept since falling from the hammock in the cargo hold, and it is now early in the following night. I'm somewhat delirious, at the moment.

I tried my best to remain firm and angry at Shiv over his trespass, but after listening to him pour his heart out in a self-deprecating style that might put even my own periods of self-pity to shame, I just couldn't do it. Maybe he's playing me for a fool and capitalizing on what little he read to tug at my heartstrings and give him a second chance, or maybe he's being genuine and giving me a peek behind the curtain. I'm trusting and hoping that it's the latter, and there's enough evidence that I think I'm right. Part of the reason for that is the fact that he let on that his staunch refusal to open up in the past is what cost him his relationship with Cin, and he regrets being so cold and unable to speak openly to her at the time. The ending of their relationship only made him smokescreen his real feelings even more, and it's cost him time and time again. That fact is what truly tipped the scales toward me accepting his apology.

For the record, if I'm being played- it's entirely my fault, and I'll accept that in writing here and now.

I don't remember some parts of our conversation after that because I'm exhausted, and I was running on little sleep at the time already. I do remember hopping up on the crate next to Shiv and offering a handshake of… acceptance, or camaraderie, or something to that effect, which he accepted. We talked for a bit about our journey thus far, and I tried to explain that I had similar feelings to him about some aspects of life in general. For once, he seemed to be truly listening, rather than waiting for his turn to start talking about himself again. Of course, I fumbled through much of my explanation, and couldn't accurately convey what I was trying to say. Eventually, we looped back around to simply discussing stupid, frivolous things that won't matter by the morning.

Maybe they will matter, actually. It was nice to see another side of Shiv beyond his public façade, and funnily enough, he said the same about me. It's making me wonder just how I come off to other people, and what they must think of me, in truth. If only there was some way to see into other peoples' private thoughts that didn't involve petty theft or intimate commitments.

Neither of us slept or kept track of time, until I pulled out my scroll and noticed it was 6 in the morning. It was at that point that Shiv and I went our separate ways for most of the remainder of the day, and I busied myself with simply wandering the ship and my own mind. I was hoping to just take in the fresh air after being confined in a room that smelled of sawdust and metal shavings for so long, but instead ran into Blake out on the main deck. I told her we had to stop meeting like this, and she told me that if we did, she would be sad. I won't lie- it made me feel rather good about myself to know that she enjoys my company. I certainly enjoy hers.

It's rather odd that I think about her as being "mature for her age" when I'm only now four years her senior. I deeply appreciate the fact that she was content to simply stand with me at the railing and look out over the landscape for an extended period of time. Very few people seem to understand the value of silence, but Blake doesn't seem to feel the need to fill the void with noise for noise's sake. It makes me wonder just how compatible she would really be with Sun, should we return to Vacuo anytime in the coming months. I plan on giving him a call sometime after we land, and get to the main camp.

Eventually, I had a feeling that I might fall asleep while leaning at the railing if I didn't find something to distract myself with, and so, I decided to ask Blake for advice on Shiv. After assuring me that the conversation would stay between us, I chose to trust Blake with everything that had gone on between he and I. Something seems wrong about someone my age venting to someone like Blake, but in this case, I feel it was justified. She has wisdom and insight beyond her years, and I… don't. Blake made the suggestion to simply give Shiv the journal for a day, and let him indulge in his preferred method of getting to know me. Considering that he, Cin, Ilia, and Blake are to be my partners for an uncertain, but not insignificant amount of time, there's really nothing in this tome that I feel is too sacred for him to learn at this point, especially given that he already started digging into it. Some of it may be upsetting, perhaps, but not strictly forbidden. It's a big risk, but the payoff could be worth it. I think I'm going to follow through on the advice.

I offered to let Blake read through this journal first, just to see if she still thought it was a good idea, but her reaction was the opposite of what I expected. She told me that she has no interest in trawling through peoples' personal lives, and would rather just learn things about them as they feel comfortable offering information. I asked if she, too, kept a journal, and she said that she wouldn't dare put anything in writing because she has wounds too deep to ever risk exposing. For the second time in as many days, I had no idea what to say, so I simply offered a hand. She took another hug instead, and told me to get some rest. Apparently, I look like I need it, and I certainly do.

The rest of today was slow- torturously so. I spent a bit of time with Cin, and then the five of us shared a meal together. I didn't have much to say on account of spending most of my energy on trying not to pass out into the mashed potatoes, but the three girls seemed to be having a good time. I honestly can't tell if Ilia is just quiet, or thinks that I'm creepy. Or thinks that Shiv is creepy. Or was just trying to be respectful of the fact that the two of us are both exhausted. Either way, I plan on talking to her tomorrow, at some point, and working at getting to know her better. After all, we're running out of days before we get to Mistral, and I doubt any of us will feel much like talking while on a hike through gods only know what terrain.

All in all, things are… I suppose I could honestly say "good," yet tense. Tomorrow, I'll be giving this journal over to Shiv to read. Even upon its return, I don't think it's time to give it to Cin, yet- she and I have no trouble simply talking to each other, and I want her to have the "complete" story, once I no longer feel the need to record things here. For now, though, I'm going to turn in early, and Shiv seems ready to do the same. We're sharing our original room again, and starting tomorrow, we'll be sharing a hell of a lot more. I'm hesitantly curious to learn what he has to say about what he's about to read.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Apologies to anyone disappointed at the lack of entry last week, but _Chasing Clarity_ ate all of my free time after coming out of nowhere. This journal definitely won't be abandoned- it's just the easiest thing to put on the back burner when new ideas strike. More soon.

**-RD**


	18. Big Mink Energy

Waking up earlier this afternoon to this journal atop my chest with a sticky note reading "Have at it." attached to the cover was not what I was expecting, but it could be far worse, I suppose. I'll admit, I'm not entirely sure what Dai meant by "have at it," but I'm taking it to mean that for today at least, this journal is now mine. After all, he hasn't made himself available or sent so much as a text for the duration of the day, so how am I to know what he's thinking? Except, of course, by reading this collection of ramblings and inaccuracies, which I did read in their entirety, before beginning to contribute to them.

I would like to begin by stating within this permanent record that Daisuke Aki is a complete and utter imbecile in the purest and most distilled sense of the word- the majority of these entries are dripping with obliviousness, ineptitude, and self-pity the likes of which I have never previously seen. I did indeed intend to comb through this journal, bit by bit, in an effort to understand what exactly makes the man tick, only to come away knowing less than I did before. When you inevitably do read this, Dai- thank you for reinforcing the notion that I have every reason in the world to silently glare at you as you bumble through each and every conversation you engage in, only to emerge smelling like roses through some sort of divine intervention. While the only thing that will listen to me seems to be this very paper, it seems that even the gods themselves would go out of their way to listen to you, and in some ways, I wouldn't blame them if they did.

The hours spent poring over these pages has done little but fill me with frustration as I realize just how incompatible we should be. Our constant clashing makes more sense now, and I think I can finally put my finger upon the root cause of it. Obnoxiously enough, Dai is correct about one thing- it's all based in envy- it's just not envy in the way that he thinks. I'm over Cinnamon, or over you, depending on if this is being read by her.

What a mess this journal is. After this paragraph, I am settling on "writing at" an impartial third party. Otherwise, I may lose focus upon what I want to say and end up sounding just like Dai. The man couldn't focus on the ground if given a magnifying glass and glowing neon arrows pointing downward, as is clearly evident by the drivel that fills most of these pages.

I am over Cinnamon, and see her as a colleague, in the same way I see Daisuke. Granted, she and I have more history, and that affords her a bit more leeway when it comes to compromise, but that is the only difference in their standing as current allies. I feel nothing specific about the budding relationship between them, happiness and jealousy included. I will say no more of it, and I would suggest that no one else who may happen to read this does, either. After all, the intent of this journal being given to me was to work toward peace and understanding, and there is no sense trawling through the past in hopes of digging up something that isn't there.

Now, I'd like to provide a point-by-point examination of what exactly is causing the occasional tensions between Dai and I, both for his reference, and for that of anyone trying to use this journal as a running record of historical events in the lives of our "team," especially if, gods forbid, someone plans to cite this as though everything written here before this point is accurate. Take my word for it- do not do that, lest you come away with an odd mashup of a romanticized retelling of some events and the most understated recounting of others to ever exist.

Dai claims to want to grow closer to me as professional partner and "friend," but it is incredibly obvious to me that at least for a time, he barely listened to me. My weapon is not a "sniper rifle," it is a stolen and heavily modified Winchester Military Technologies Anti-Material Rifle, Model X377E-W, which I believe I made extremely clear in my demonstration back in Vacuo. The "modular" nature and "attachments" that Dai referenced were all my doing and implemented long after I acquired the weapon, though he apparently didn't think it important to give me credit, or likely even pay attention to the fact that I know my way around a weapon workshop, and truly, most technology in general. I honestly find it offensive that he didn't even try to take in the incredibly difficult and extremely technical adjustments I made to the weapon, especially when I made an effort to help him better understand his own immediately afterward. An effort he met with his usual slightly confused look and a scratching of his side. Yet another attempt to reach out wasted, and a reminder of why I generally don't bother making connections with other people.

Before moving on, for those interested- the ways in which I modified my firearm are numerous, and the vast majority of the tweaks would go over the heads of most who may read this. The most standout adjustment is the ability of the weapon to separate into two halves, leaving the barrel and attached stand to become separate from the stock and grip. I have adjusted both the mounting bracket and stock to function as handles and attached a long bayonet to the barrel, as well as a pair of blades running along its length upon the sides, which detach with the back half of the rifle. This allows me to be quite capable in close range combat, despite Dai's assumptions, and the two halves function as a pair of bladed tonfas.

I suppose I should offer Dai some credit here, to close out this segment- naming weapons is for sentimental fools. Weapons are a tool and extension of the self, to be maintained and cared for like clothing, rather than a partner, lover, or pet. The lack of name for his fan is a point in his favor, however minor.

Of course, the weaponry example is only one instance in a long list of others in which Dai has failed to pick up on something important, and it doesn't just apply to me. He's incredibly slow to catch on to just how much Cinnamon, Blake, and Sun admire and care about him, and the sight of his blasé ignorance makes my blood boil. Everyone here, even Ilia, seems to look at him as though his opinion and contributions are always valuable and important, even when he's doing little but cradling their precious feelings and unnecessary desires. Such little time and energy has been spent focusing on our overall mission, be it the sand worm or the trip to Mistral, that I can't help but wonder how and why he's being given any sort of leadership position, however minor. Ghira respects me- if he didn't, I would leave the White Fang- but he sees something else in Dai that has afforded him trust that I've only seen given to far more experienced members, previously. I'm willing to bet that his involvement with Cinnamon has something to do with it. That, or Ghira is planning something that the rest of us will find unpleasurable, and he needs Dai as a personal lapdog to sit, stay, and roll over on command while the rest of us seethe and resist in our own ways.

Speculation about the future aside, I think it is far more productive to focus on the past, and how it affects the present. Dai is unaware of just how lucky he is, and I find that infuriating. Nothing he does seems to be intentional, while my every move and word are choreographed to a music none seem to appreciate. Dai is making occasional efforts to hear the melody, but he refuses to move with me. I thought, and still believe, that said refusal is due more to ignorance than intention, but it's just as frustrating either way. If he really wants to make something more of our time together than the occasional conversation about frivolous things while on patrol, then he is going to have to put forth far more effort… and so I am. The difference is, I'm not sure I'm willing.

Despite his ignorant, scattered, perpetually low-energy, passively anxious, empathetic, obnoxious nature, Dai is correct about the vast majority of what he has written here about me. I will not deny that I can come off as grating, and I am very much aware of the effect I have on people. I have no desire to "correct" that facet of myself, as no one but Dai really seems willing to make sacrifices and steps to bring me into the limelight that I deserve. I have grown tired of trying and still being glossed over, tired of being made promises only to watch them be broken more often than not, and tired of people telling me that they care, only to show me otherwise. Dai has already spoken for me here, and his records of our conversations show that he did indeed pay attention when we were alone, at the very least.

I'll admit- I'm not sure where to go from here, in this entry, or otherwise. I was able to follow Dai's thought process, for the most part, within these pages. I was also able to write far more here than I thought I might, and that's another thing he was right about- written expression is far easier for me. Perhaps a paragraph or two of this rant would have made it into face-to-face conversation, partially because I don't care enough to make the effort, and partially because I don't think even Dai would be interested enough to keep listening for much longer. I can only hope that by writing here, something, whatever it may be, is accomplished.

I can't say that doing this has made me feel better. If anything, it has made me feel anxious, and vulnerable. Dai understands me, even if he doesn't seem to understand much else, at times, and that only serves to make me wonder about several things. I feel uneasy, disturbed, and annoyed that all of this has backfired. If it isn't clear just yet, I understand everything Dai has written here, but I still do not understand why he feels the way he feels, or what drives him to do what he does. That uncertainty is going to cause me to resist a connection even more. I don't trust people, as a general rule. My own welfare is paramount, and trusting so heavily in an enigma like Dai is going to jeopardize that. I suppose at this point, I'm just throwing words on a page because I feel like I have to. I'm not sure if I "have to" for myself, or for him, or for anyone else, but all the same, I feel compelled.

Consider this a manifesto, a declaration, whatever- I'm laying out what thoughts I can put into words here and now, and never again. This entry will be my first and last, and it isn't a cry for change or coddling. It's just a statement of where I'm at mentally, and whatever Dai does with that is up to him. I felt so full of scathing criticism as I began, only to deflate around halfway through and just start feeling a bit hollow. I'm envious of him. I'm envious of all of them, really, simply because they can trust, feel things openly, and be honest about their faults. So far, I've only ever done that here, and in the cargo hold. It's not something I intend to make a habit of doing. My system has worked for me thus far, and I intend to uphold it.

To close- Daisuke, if and when you read this, I want you to know something. I'm not sorry for being who I am, or "the way I am." I'm not sorry that I can't trust you fully, or that there will always be a minimum distance between us, regardless of your efforts. The only thing I'm sorry for is the fact that you actually deserve more than you receive, and it's taken you this long in life to start getting it. I'd expect that admission to come as a surprise, especially given how venomous some of my words here have been, but it's true. You deserve more, and I deserve more. The difference is, you seem to be slowly getting it, while I've accepted that I'll receive no such thing. I don't want pity, or understanding, or comfort like you do. All I want is appreciation, admiration, and respect, and I'll fight tooth and nail to get it, however impossible it proves. Getting it from you won't be enough. Getting it from our "team" won't be enough. I'll do what I need to do to get what it is that I need to start feeling whole again.

That's enough meandering. I'm done here. Make of this what you will and judge me as you want. I care little. I have a mission to accomplish for the Fang over the next few months, and some thinking to do right now.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

I expect Shiv's attitude to answer a few questions, and raise many more. He'll be a key figure in _Arboretum_ later, and this little window into his mind may just come back later on.

**-RD**


	19. Another Link

I suppose, in the end, I really only have myself to blame for Shiv's contribution to this journal. The note I left wasn't exactly clear, and I can see why he thought I wanted him to write his thoughts down amongst mine. To be honest, a part of me is happy that he did, and I think it will benefit both of us in the future. In contrast, another part of me is now deeply concerned for and confused by his mental state, and I can't help but wonder what more I can do to help him. It may honestly be a matter of what more he'll allow me to do to help him than anything.

Reading back through Shiv's thoughts, I'm honestly not sure what to say. I also feel like it's not my place to comment on his thought process within these pages. I think I need more time to think on this before I determine my next move with him, and I can't guarantee I'll do any planning about that within this journal. To anyone reading, just know that I'm working on it, and I don't intend to give up on making him into a close friend.

We land in Mistral tomorrow, and then it'll be a while of walking before we reach the somewhat hidden main camp. It seems that everyone on board is nervous, but most of all myself and Ilia. I've gotten to know Ilia a bit more over this flight, after finally managing to get her alone. It's funny- despite the fact that she's apparently Blake's closest friend, and one she's known since childhood, the experience of talking with her could not possibly be more different than that of talking to my cat companion.

Where Blake is calm, unreadable, slow to answer, and thoughtful in her responses to questions, Ilia is a bit mopey until she gets angry and passionate, obvious in how she's feeling in more ways than one, quick-witted and sure in her words, and seemingly impulsive. The girl wears her emotions on her skin- quite literally, given her chameleon nature. In a relatively tame discussion about the White Fang, I saw her turn completely blue, red, and pink all in the span of five minutes. It's somewhat captivating to watch, and it makes it much easier to tell what she's thinking. I just wish she didn't seem so embarrassed about it, as I think it's beautiful. In some ways, her willingness to leave herself and her thoughts open reminds me a bit of Sun.

Despite having a few one-off talks of varying lengths and getting to know her personality pretty well, I managed to learn precious little about Ilia herself in that time. She asked a lot of questions about me, and I think that she was doing it in part to deflect attention from herself, and in part because she idolizes Cin. I'm not entirely sure what the relationship between them is, but I do know that they've known each other for several years, and Ilia looks up to her. Hearing the girl gush about my partner was admittedly quite nice, and I was more than happy to listen to her praise. It only served to make me feel even better about my growing relationship with Cin, which I'll get to in a moment.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, in terms of my conversations with Ilia- she's a fan of Adam Taurus. I've been slowly collecting information on the man as subtly as I can throughout this journey upon the ship, and opinions are incredibly mixed thus far. Cin has been candid and forthright with me about her conflicted feelings about him, which she said she'll never admit to the others. Blake is equally torn, despite the fact that the man is her personal mentor and practically raised her. Shiv seems largely indifferent, as he does about most things, but I'm sensing a slightly negative spin in the way he talks about Adam. Ilia, however, sees his violence and harsh methods as justified, and I'm hesitant to question her. I don't want to take a stance either way until I've met him myself, and I also don't want to sour things with Ilia when we've only just met and will be spending several months together. All in all, Ilia's gusto is only adding to my nervousness, but I do like her, in general.

As for Cin, I'm going to be relatively careful with what I choose to write here. Despite keeping the arrangement of bunking with Shiv, she and I have still found opportunities for time alone, and we have used those opportunities to become more physical with each other. She's gentle, careful, and passionate in her efforts, and I appreciate the respect she has for my conflicted feelings about being intimate. While we haven't "gone all the way," we're partially there, and it's been incredible and satisfying. I don't just mean that in a physical sense, either- deepening our relationship has helped keep my head clear and reaffirm that no matter what's about to happen in Mistral, not everything is awful.

Speaking of Mistral, and speaking of awful, though- I've a made decision that when I get the chance, I'm going to go back to Oniyuri. I need to see that place again, and there are some things I need to do to find closure. I spoke to Cin at length about the notion, and whether or not I would have time to get it done amid all of our other duties. She told me that "we" will make time, and the other three will have to hold down the fort while we're away. I warned her that I'll likely be a mess if and when we go, and she had little to say other than that she'll do what she needs to in order to keep me safe and upright. I'm not sure what I did to deserve her.

I suppose, really, that's about it, for the moment. I'm not sure whether or not I'll write again before we reach the main camp, but I am sure that when we do, I'll be documenting everything important that I learn about Adam. This is going to be the greatest in a long series of leaps, and I can only hope that there is stable ground to land on.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Another short one, but I'd rather not drag entries out unnecessarily. This journal is over halfway to 'ending,' though there are still plenty of events left to cover in the coming chapters. Once we hit the entry before Dai's presence in _Arboretum_, though, this will be going on hiatus until that main story catches up.

**-RD**


	20. Three Visits

We've been in the Mistral main camp for several days, now. I haven't had any desire to write, mostly because I've been wrestling with how to put my thoughts into words at all since our arrival. We did manage to convince Adam Taurus to withdraw to Vacuo, but other than that, very little has gone right. Everyone and everything here feels tense. The lack of trust in the air is palpable, and it's to the point where even among Cin, Blake, Ilia, Shiv, and I, the dynamics have already begun to change. I don't like any of it, and I don't know what else to do beyond focusing on stabilizing this main camp and beginning to repair the image of the Fang. Well, that, and record my thoughts on the situation here, as well as the people. Three of them in particular are on my mind a lot, and only one of them in a positive light.

Adam Taurus is not at all what I expected, at least in terms of how he carries himself. Every small piece of grainy footage I've seen of him, every media hit piece I've read, and every second-hand account that I've heard paints him as some sort of rabid dog. I was expecting him to be totally unhinged from square one, and potentially threaten one or all of us. Instead, he's an entirely different sort of intimidating. He never removes his mask, even within the campgrounds, but I can feel his cold stare from behind the polished metal. Adam is a man who knows his strengths and employs them incredibly effectively- he keeps his posture perfect at all times, emphasizing his impressive height and using it to tower over people. His voice is deep, rich, and full of purpose. One hand is always upon the hilt of his weapon, even when no threats are present. All in all, he looks and acts the part of a leader, and his overall presence seems smothering to the vast majority. Funnily enough, his tactics don't work on me, Cin, Blake, or Shiv. I think that may be why Ghira chose us to do this job.

Ilia and Blake both stood a bit closer to Adam than I expected while we relayed Ghira's orders, and both girls seem to have their own strategies for handling his condescending way of laying out his opinions. Cin, Shiv, and I remained together and bounced ideas off of each other as we tried to convince Adam to return to Vacuo, but it was eventually Blake who managed to finally change his mind. There's something going on between the two of them, but I don't think it's romantic- it's more of an unspoken understanding, an invisible bond that I doubt could be successfully explained to outsiders. It was a mention of her mother that finally swayed Adam, though I don't understand what exactly she was talking about. It all ended rather quickly, with Adam walking out of the central tent and readying a transport almost immediately. I'll have to ask Blake about what really happened there later.

Speaking of Blake's mother, we met her the following day. The best way I can describe Kali Belladonna is by saying that if you've ever been in the situation where you met a friend's new significant other, and only been able to say that they're "a lot" when asked what you think of them? That's Kali. She's "a lot."

I don't mean any of that in a negative way- she's just the stark opposite of Adam in every way conceivable. Kali is loud, boisterous, full of energy, and wears her emotions on her sleeves. In some ways, I feel as though she and Blake somehow magically switched ages. Her enthusiasm and free-spirited nature is infectious and endearing, and her very presence seems to rally the men of the camp in ways I didn't think possible. Her fatal flaw at the moment seems to be that she isn't around much and is instead working on something outside of the camp. When asked, she dodges the question. Honestly, I'm not sure that I really want to know, if it shatters the illusion that someone here is still clinging to actual hope. I need to speak with her more, though the somewhat predatory looks she offers me are concerning. Then again, she also offers them to Shiv, and she's married, so I doubt it is any sort of real lustful threat.

Speaking of lustful threats, I suppose I can't realistically dance around the reality of our arrival in the camp much longer. The first person waiting at the gate to greet us was Sienna Khan.

Accusations against me came from her immediately, and if looks could kill, I would be dead. I had a list of counterpoints building in my mind as she went off about how I abandoned her for her involvement with Pewter Road, only to end up here amongst harder criminals. Some part of me was ready to stand my ground and shout right back at her, but a larger part simply stood there and took the abuse. I guess there's still something there between us that's holding me back, as much as I hate to admit it. Looking at her again, I couldn't help but feel like I wanted to try to fix things, and just let her say what she wanted to say. Maybe that makes me weak, pathetic, or unable to move on, but at least I can admit that it's true. I was too busy feeling awful to really tell what those around me were thinking, but I did see that Shiv looked rather angry for some reason throughout the spectacle. Cin's reaction was one that I couldn't really ignore.

Sienna's attack on me lasted all of about a minute or two before Cin stepped in- quite literally, in front of me. Before that moment, I had yet to see her really use the force of her personality in a businesslike way. Most of her interactions with lesser members of the Fang in front of me have gone the same way- she offers a cold glare, a stern, judgmental tone, and she uses some of the same tactics that Adam does to appear above whoever she's speaking to. This was entirely different- it was like every bit of venom in her body managed to concentrate upon her tongue, and she took Sienna to task in a way that left my former flame reeling and embarrassed enough to retreat into the camp. I don't really remember much of what was said, as I was on the verge of having a panic attack throughout the event, but I do remember that Sienna told her this "wasn't over." Even Blake and Ilia seemed taken aback by the intensity with which Cin reacted to Sienna, though Shiv seemed more like he had seen it all before. I get the distinct feeling that he has.

The following night was an uncomfortable one. Cin and I share Adam's former tent, now, while Blake and Ilia have taken one of their own. Shiv is… somewhere, I would assume. I spent the majority of the night talking to Cin in low whispers about Sienna and trying to talk her down from causing another scene, since Sienna apparently plans to remain here. We need to find a way to get her to go back to Vacuo, or I may not be able to function. I could also just man up, confront her myself, and deal with whatever these feelings that I have are, but let's be realistic- that isn't going to happen, anytime soon. Cin actually advised me against doing so and told me that I have every right to feel the way I do. I'm not sure I agree with her, but it is indeed a comforting excuse, so I'll take it. I'm beginning to think I may, in fact, be an asshole.

The layout and logistics of the camp, as well as our plan moving forward are things that I honestly don't have the energy to get into, right now. I'll put pen to paper again tomorrow and record it all for posterity, but for now, I'm mentally and emotionally drained, even days after our arrival and seeing Sienna again. I need to figure out what to do with myself, before I can figure out what to do with these people. It isn't going to be easy.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Dai's entries will likely be on the shorter side on average from here on, simply because of the shift in tone and his mental state. Expect more soon… as well as the return of _What You Stole._

**-RD**


	21. Like a Reed in Wind

I can't help but feel like this was all a massive setup. I also can't help but feel like I don't know how I feel about that fact.

Adam Taurus has returned to the campsite. He was gone only a week or so, before he marched right back into the center of camp and made several sweeping declarations. As it turns out, there will be no transfer of power, he will not be returning to Vacuo, and the Mistral campground of the White Fang is now its own separate entity, led by him. People were given a single opportunity to leave after his speech, but I didn't take it, nor did any of my 'party' of allies. I think we were all thinking the same thing- it may be a test, and if it comes down to trying to run from Adam Taurus, I don't like those odds.

Sienna knew. Watching her face while Adam laid out her manifesto, and knowing what I know about her, she absolutely knew this was coming. A conversation was had between Ghira and Adam, likely by scroll, and it didn't go the way Adam expected, wanted, or both. I think Ghira knew this would happen… and talking to Blake privately only reinforced that notion within my mind. She apologized to me personally for allowing me to get roped into this, but she reminded me that her father believes in all of us. Blake believes that if we were put here and he had a feeling this was coming, he did it in order for us to have a positive influence within the campground. I can't deny that notion from what little I know of Ghira, or from the call he made to me a few days ago. Even so, I can't help but feel a bit betrayed.

Ilia doesn't seem to mind all of this. Blake has gotten a lot quieter. Shiv seems furious. Cinnamon… for once, she seems to be relying on me to keep her grounded, rather than the reverse.

Cin has gotten quieter, too, and not just in public, but with me. She doesn't want to talk about the current situation, but she wants reassurance and comfort. I've been stepping up to try to give it to her and telling her that we can do this… but I'm not entirely sure I believe it, myself. After all she's done for me, I have to be strong for her. I may not have wanted anything close to a leadership position, but with Adam here, that role has been significantly reduced, yet inflated in its importance. I owe it to all of those I came here with to do what I know is right, and regardless of whether or not he knowingly put us here, I owe it to Ghira, as well.

When Ghira called me, he made no mention of Adam. He didn't seem interested in discussing our mission- he was only interested in me, and Oniyuri. After looking through files and making a few calls, Ghira suggested to me that the Winchester Military Technologies company and their CEO, Jay Winchester, had something to do with what happened to my home. He forwarded me several photos of masked men with W.M.T. weaponry around the outskirts of Oniyuri collecting data mere days after the attack.

Supposedly, the White Fang managed to track them for a short time, before they were discovered. Several members of the Fang were killed by the men around the village's remains, but there are photos that exist of Oniyuri artifacts in the hands of the hired mercenaries. The report from the surviving Fang said that the men appeared to be tracking something- potentially the giant grimm responsible for laying siege to Oniyuri. I don't know when, but I'll be using that lead to get some answers, and I owe Ghira for that, at the very least. Perhaps the W.M.T. is involved, and perhaps not- but they're as good a place as any to start my investigation.

Speaking of calls, I contacted Sun, finally. I was tempted to blow our cover and fill him in on everything going on, but as it turns out, there's no need for me to try to protect him- Cin already took care of that. Cin has told Sun that in the fall, she'll be attending Haven Academy, along with Shiv and I. I had to go with the lie in order to prevent raising suspicion, and she later explained to me that it will keep him from asking questions while we're occupied here. Apparently, Ghira can forge the paperwork for us, but it all still feels so wrong. I feel awful lying to the boy, and I do want to see him again, once things settle here. He needs to be protected. Once I see him again, I'm not sure what I'll say… but he at least seems to be keeping his chin up, despite other events happening at the foster home.

Swirls is apparently gone. A man that Sun didn't recognize came and formally adopted her, and after some digging, Sun found out that his name is apparently Roman Torchwick. That means nothing to me, but I suppose it's something else I could look into using Fang resources, to make sure that she's safe. I hate so much that Sun is now alone, but there's little I can do for him beyond reassurance. That seems to be my new role in all of this- being everyone's rock and keeping things relatively stable.

There's honestly only so much I can write, now- Kali has disappeared, Shiv is largely keeping to himself and shutting us out when not actively working, and Ilia and Blake seem to be at odds. At this point, it's just a matter of doing the best I can for the overall good of the Fang, and hoping things work out. I'll be writing here less and choosing my words carefully. I suppose, at the very least, things won't be boring or directionless in my life anymore.

So long as I have Cin, I think everything will eventually work out. Here's to a new chapter.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Sorry for the _very_ long delay on this and the sparse nature of the past few chapters, but I've been going back and forth on how I want to incorporate this journal into _Arboretum _canon. More or less, the decision that I've made is to stop the journal here, a fair bit earlier than I expected, so that the events going down in the White Fang camp can actually be written out in _Arboretum_ Volume 3. Initially, I thought that wouldn't work out, but now, I have a concrete plan to get it done. I think that Dai, Shiv, Cin, Blake, and Ilia's situation would be better served and more interesting in a third-person retelling within _Arboretum_. That being said, this journal isn't "done", it's just going on hiatus until _Arboretum_ catches up, at which point Dai will record his thoughts again on what's going on. The entire point of this first part of the journal was merely to justify how a reasonable and thoughtful person like Daisuke could be enticed to join the Fang, and I hope that goal was accomplished.

With this story "ending", of course, that means a new one is coming- sometime in the next few weeks, I'll be starting _Aces High_, which is also canon to _Arboretum_. _Aces High_ will be a third-person story setting up the background of and fleshing out the Ace Ops in _Arboretum_ canon, as there will absolutely not be a good opportunity to weave them into the main story until way, way later- something like Volume 7 or 8 of _Arboretum_. _Aces High_ will also work as a standalone story and have a… somewhat surprising connection to this very journal. All I'll say for now is that it takes place about 6 months after this entry, and a certain someone will be joining the team that isn't there in canon.

Hope you enjoyed this first large chunk of Daisuke's journal, and I hope to see you all along for the ride in the other two stories!

**-RD**


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